Guild Wars
by Gangyzgirl
Summary: Years have passed, and KaNack is still leading the Dark Brotherhood. With the Black Hand reformed, it appears that there is nothing standing in the way of the family's survival. The Brotherhood was not always the only assassins guild. A faction, back from the dead, seems dead set on doing what they can to remove the Dark Brotherhood and claim their rightful place in Tamriel.
1. Happy Family

The Black Hand had come back strongly and its members spread out about all of Tamriel. The Night Mother's words had to be transported by way of hawk, but somehow the Dark Brotherhood managed to make it work. No longer were they legends, but a frightening reality. A Black Sacrament was no longer something one would take lightly no matter what country they resided in.

One small underground chamber in Skyrim however was the most vital of the many that existed on Nirn. For it not only housed a Speaker and the Listener, but the Night Mother as well. Located in the bitter cold town of Dawnstar, the assassins within turned it into a permanent home.

The sanctuary was quiet, save for the faint murmurings of those dwelling within. To many, this would be considered a den of criminals, murderers and villains. This could not be further from the truth, as this sanctum housed devoted servants to their deity, skilled professionals of their trade and loving friends who despite not sharing the same blood, considered one another family.

In the conference chamber in the Dawnstar sanctuary, the assassins had gathered to receive contracts from their Speaker. Once a simple assassin, the Redguard known as Nazir was bestowed the honor of being named Speaker and was responsible for retrieving the intimate details regarding those who desired the death of another.

Many years had passed and the Argonian was now in his thirties. KaNack was still as strong and faithful as ever to the Dark Brotherhood. The young initiates were now in their twenties and professional assassins. He had expected that by now, his precious killers would have moved on to form their own sanctuaries; but when given the choice, they resolved instead to remain in Dawnstar serving the Listener and staying close to the Night Mother.

KaNack folded his hands together and smiled at the motley crew before him. Again the members of the Dark Brotherhood had assembled around the large table in the Dawnstar sanctuary, but this time it was tidings for great things to come. It was the beginning of the month and that meant a fresh set of contracts to be handed out to the assassins. Once more the Dark Brotherhood was to be sent forth to spill blood in the name of Sithis and the Night Mother. How glorious it was to be part of the sinister and twisted family!

Four of the youngest members of the family lined the outside of the table as they waited patiently for their Speaker to hand them their respective contracts.

The oldest of the group was Vytalas, a strong Dunmer who was a master archer with his ebony bow and could strike the smallest of targets from great distances. Both Lucien and the Dark Brotherhood leader agreed that he would make a fine leader of a sanctuary one day if he ever finally decided to leave Dawnstar.

It was unlikely though, as over the years he had become quiet close to the lovely young woman sitting next to him. Kaie was a Breton who relied on nothing more than her stealth and blade to get the job done, silence was her greatest asset.

Then there was Dro'marash, the black and crimson Khajiit, the unchild Babette's protégé. The cat was a master of creating potent and toxic poisons that could rival that of the Jarrin root. If something could be poisoned or coated with poison, odds were that the feline would not hesitate to do so to send a soul to Sithis.

The last assassin lining the great table was the tawny Argonian, Shaleez, a mage who was solely trained by the Listener himself. She had to go through the same trials and frustrations that KaNack had to endure from the wizard Krex, but it was vital that she did so to become more powerful and capable in her abilities. With her becoming skilled in her craft, KaNack was sure that even when he took that final voyage to the Void, his mentor's legacy would continue to live on with the next generation.

All the young assassins were making small talk with each other as they waited for Nazir to make his appearance and for the meeting to start. Vytalas was whispering sweet thing in the ear of Kaie, who didn't seem to mind at all. Shaleez was casting magelight at the ceiling as Dro'marash showed her a vial of his latest potent toxin. They were all so bright and eager to get to work. How lucky was it to find yourself in a job in which you loved what you do, dark as it was?

From a tunnel off to the side, the Redguard finally appeared, in the traditional black robes of the Speaker. He took his place at the far end of the table where the veterans of the sanctuary resided. Nazir and Babette had the honor of holding that spot in the chamber for they had been part of the faction longer than any living person sitting there. The Redguard had grown older in age and killing was no longer easy for him to complete, which was why he was now a member of the Black Hand. Babette, forever young, and not weakened by something as petty as age, continued to join the others in the kill. She was as good as they came and an excellent teacher to the brothers and sisters of the sanctuary.

KaNack turned his head to the right, where his faithful and retired follower Cicero sat. The Fool of Hearts had sheathed his blade for now, but he was always welcome at the table as though he were still an active member. The position of Keeper was an honorable position, and as such the jester was owed respect from any who earned the right to pass through the Black Doors.

To the Listener's left was the spirit of the Dark Brotherhood, Lucien Lachance. The ghost had been his mentor and guide after the fall of Falkreath and was as close to a father figure as the reptile had ever come to know since the death of Festus Krex. Just as Cicero was owed respect, so was Lachance.

He was a former Speaker who stood as an example of what any brother or sister should expect to be- one who was willing to endure any torture and die while still holding onto their faith and devotion to the Dread Father. He was easily the best of all of them and was responsible for seeing to it that the Tenets and Old Ways remained enforced within the Dark Brotherhood.

KaNack still bore the wicked scar and a cracked horn as a reminder to all that no one was exempt from breaking the Tenets. Lucien was considered a guide and teacher, but that did not mean that he would not discipline those who thought they were above tradition.

The Spectral Assassin tilted his head curiously as he noticed that his caster was staring at him and smiling just slightly.

"Shall we begin then?" the ghost asked quietly.

KaNack cleared his throat and held up his hands, bringing all conversation to a halt. Standing from his seat, the Listener addressed his family.

"Death comes to us all, does it not?" he started.

"No!" shouted Babette.

"Not necessary, look at the kindly specter!" Cicero remarked giving the Listener a slight grin.

The assassins laughed and pounded on the wooden table in glee. The ghost shook his head and chuckled at the Keeper's reaction to the rhetorical question. The more Lucien remained in the temporal plane, the more he seemed to feel like his old self. No longer bound to the scroll, he embraced the notion that he was not a mere specter, but an active member of the sanctuary. He soon found himself able to joke and socialize as though he were bone and flesh once more. Lachance was still judgmental and strict at times, but his personality had definitely lightened up in the last few years.

KaNack shook his head, smiling to himself as he shut his eyes. He embraced laughter and encouraged it amongst his brothers and sisters. Laughter brought them together and made them stronger. It took a strong heart to be able to laugh in the presence of death, the Keeper had taught him that.

"Thank you, Babette and Cicero," he sighed. He lifted his head and got a serious look in his eyes. As much as he enjoyed playful banter, whenever the Night Mother was to be mentioned, he had to be solemn and respectful.

"The Night Mother spoke to me and gave me the names and locations of where Black Sacraments were been performed. The children of Sithis have cried out to their Mother. Shall we ignore their pleas?"

"NO!" the assassins announced as one.

"Of course not! Our Mother has seen to it that She and the Dread Father will have more thralls to welcome into the Void! More power to Her and to Sithis! All hail Sithis!"

"All hail Sithis!" every man, woman and spirit shouted with pride. Nazir stood up from his seat and prepared for his duties as Speaker. He had gone to the many different invokers of the unholy ritual and collected the information that was required of him. The Redguard was responsible for handing out the contracts to every assassin in the sanctuary

"Dearest brothers and sisters," the older man started as he tilted his head so that his face could now be seen from under the black shroud. "The time has come for you all to receive the names of the souls that Sithis has claimed as His. A contract bound in blood." Nazir reached into a pocket of the cloak and his eyes suddenly widened in shock. "Uhhh…"

"Is everything alright, Speaker?" Kaie asked in concern, as the Redguard always took this duty very seriously.

The Black Hand member continued to rummage in his pockets, beads of sweat dripping down his brow.

"Do you not have the contracts, Nazir?" KaNack asked as his eyes narrowed and his claws clenched tightly as they clasped together.

"I….I…!"

A small smirk crawled up the Argonian's face and he turned to the Keeper. "My dear friend, Cicero. It seems our Speaker has misplaced the Night Mother's contracts."

"Tsk! Tsk!" the Fool of Hearts uttered with a shake of his head, his own maniacal grin on his face. "Never fear, oh powerful Listener. For your faithful Cicero has found them for you!"

The jester opened his satchel and pulled out a number of sealed envelopes, each one containing a letter that had a victim's name and description, location and request of execution for a Dark Brotherhood assassin.

"Ah, my humble and loyal jester!" the reptile laughed as he retrieved the letters from the merry man. "Once again you have served me flawlessly."

"What? How did you even get those?!" Nazir was beyond infuriated when he saw that the Keeper had possession of the documents he had so securely hidden in his Black Robes. He had no idea when Cicero even would have had the opportunity to steal the contracts off his person. The Redguard always kept them with his Black Hand robes and those were locked up securely when not in use.

"Cicero is very clever," the Imperial tittered.

"Or maybe you're just getting a little rusty, Nazir," KaNack snickered as he read the city name's scribbled on the envelopes. "How about this time I handle the assigning of contracts?"

"That is the Speaker's duty! Not yours!" snarled Nazir. He turned to the Spectral Assassin and held out his hand in desperation. "Will you please talk some sense into him?!"

Lucien let out an exhausted sigh and shook his head solemnly. "I have tried to get him to behave professionally for the last ten years; do you think anything I say to him now is going to make him change?" He glared at the Argonian. "I am disappointed in you, however."

"Awww, Buddy," chimed the reptile as he shot him a loving look. "Don't be mad. I have the utmost respect for the Black Hand and its members. I just miss the thrill of deciding which of my wonderful assassins will be claiming an individual's soul for our Dread Father."

"Lighten up, Lucien!" exclaimed Dro'marash as he grinned at the annoyed specter. "It's not against a Tenet for the Listener to take the role of Speaker now and then, is it?"

"We have traditions for a reason, Khajiit," growled the Spectral Assassin. "However, what's done is done. So long as we fulfill the Night Mother's wishes, I assume that it will not be such a sin if the Redguard doesn't hand out a few letters."

KaNack looked at one of the letters and leaned over to Cicero and whispered something to the fool's ear. The Keeper paused for a moment and snickered slightly before whispering something back to the reptile behind a palm. The Argonian eyes widened and he smiled brightly at the others as he held up an envelope.

"All right, my vicious assassins," he snickered. He held up the envelope high into the air. "Who wants to go to Solitude and kill a bard?"

All the assassins leaped out of their seats and held out their hands grasping for the contract. Solitude was a favored place to travel for anything could be attained there. Clothes, food, potions, weapons and other such necessities were all found in the stronghold. Also no one in the sanctuary was particularly fond of bards, having adopted their Listener's hatred for them as their own.

"Well, unfortunately, I've already claimed this particular contract for myself," the Listener laughed as he replaced the contract into his satchel. I have been biting at the bit to kill a bard!"

All the assassins sank into their seats grumbling as they shot their leader dark looks.

"You ALWAYS take Solitude contracts," Vytalas growled. "I need to purchase more ebony arrows! It's too far a journey to just travel there for supplies alone."

"My wife is there! I don't want to hear your petty excuses," KaNack answered sternly as he justified his claim on the contract.

"Ha, ha!" laughed Cicero. The merry man clapped in approval at his Listener's trick. "Once again the Listener has proven his cleverness! Every time! Every TIME they fall for it! They think they go to Solitude, but it is always the Listener!" the jester giggled. "It never grows old, it does not!"

"You're tormenting them," Lucien hissed quietly to KaNack in a scolding tone, still angry at him and the jester for interfering with a Speaker's responsibilities.

"I'll make it right," the Dark Brotherhood leader insisted quietly to his spiritual guide. He rose from his seat and gave the four a sympathetic look.

"My little bloodthirsty assassins, it pains me to see you so miserable. Look at Babette, this does not seem to upset her as much as it does you."

"If I've learned anything in the last decade about you, KaNack," the vampire smirked, "it is to always expect the unexpected."

Seeing that the younger servants of Sithis were still upset, KaNack made a motion for the depressed youth to settle down. "There must be something in the well water in that city, for there happen to be two more contracts in Solitude."

"Oh! Such trickery and wickedness!" the Keeper chirped. "You shall drive us all mad!"

Laughing, the Listener threw the two envelopes onto the center of the table, and the four assassins crashed into each other as they tried to snatch one.

"Oh, for the love of Sithis!" snarled Nazir as he witnessed the squabbling youth before him. They were all young adults, but the playful nature of their leader seemed to seep into each and every one of them. A whole sanctuary made up of individuals with the personality of the Argonian? They truly would go mad. "Would you all grow up?!" He pointed at KaNack. "Especially you!"

Both Vytalas and Kaie managed to get the Solitude contracts and fell back into their chairs, grinning with satisfaction.

"Ebony arrows, stronger bow wire and perhaps a new quiver," the Dark Elf murmured as he went through all the things he could get while in Solitude.

"You're going there for an assassination, not a shopping spree," KaNack hissed as he placed his hands on his hips. Lucien had instructed him to be more firm and enforce discipline on the new generation of assassins. It was hard having to be the one to act like some hardheaded instructor, but he knew that there had to be a balance between truly living and being adamantly professional.

"So does that mean you won't be visiting Brelyna then?" Kaie chimed as she fanned herself with the envelope.

KaNack's face dropped and he slumped back into his seat with a grumble. Kaie had called him out and knew that he was stuck. He couldn't very well tell the others to only focus on Dark Brotherhood matters if he wasn't willing to do so himself.

"Fine, I guess a little shopping before you kill your targets is okay."

KaNack distributed the rest of the contracts out to the remaining assassins and then brought the meeting to an end. As was part of tradition before going off to kill, all the Brotherhood members leaned forward, placing their hands on top of each others as a symbol of their unbreakable connection and love for their fellow brothers and sisters.

"Let's kill someone!" they all cheered at once as their hands shot up into the air. With the meeting finally over, everyone went their separate ways to start packing for their upcoming journeys to their respective regions in Skyrim.

"Well, I hope Vy and Kaie aren't planning for more than just dinner at Proudspire," the mage muttered as he got up from his seat and started up the stairs. "I'm getting the feeling Brelyna is getting tired of always having to play hostess every time I come home."

"Her cooking was quite good," Cicero remarked as he shot a wide smirk to his Listener. "If there are any leftovers, please bring some for poor Cicero."

It had been easier in the last year or so since Shaleez had become so profound in her casting that she no longer needed to travel with the Dark Brotherhood leader. KaNack was now free to see Brelyna more often and even would have a few days to spend with her before work required him to once again take to the road. They had become closer and much happier in the end.

Cicero left to tend to his Keeping duties while the Spectral Assassin followed his caster to the Argonian's room. The chamber was large and decorated with a variety of trophies from his proudest kills. Off to the side was one of his most important prizes; a dummy wearing a set of royal robes that the mage had found on the Katariah during his assassination of the Emperor.

As Lucien watched the reptile prepare himself for his journey to Solitude, the ghost murmured to himself as he folded his arms. Something had been bothering him before he had been summoned from the Void, and it was still troubling the Spectral Assassin.

"Something wrong, Lucien?" the reptile asked as he packed his potions and shrouded robes into his worn knapsack that had seen everything from his entrance to Winterhold to the execution of Ulfric Stormcloak.

"I cannot explain it. There have been whispers in the Void. I am not quite sure what is causing the restlessness, but it does have me concerned."

"No offense, but you always feel like something is off in the Void," the reptile replied with a slight chuckle. Lachance often spoke of how certain events caused disturbances in the Void. Sometimes they ended up being something vital; often however, the threat was used just to keep the Argonian in line. "Maybe you just haven't been in there enough and it seems foreign to you."

"Trust me, Listener," the specter hissed, "one does not simply forget the sensation of being in the Void. It's imprinted on you like a brand."

The Argonian tied his bag shut and threw it over his shoulder before turning to face his spirit.

"The Penitus Oculatus have been dead for five years, the Night Mother speaks to me regularly, and we have sanctuaries now in every region of Tamriel." The mage patted his spiritual guardian on the shoulder. "I think we're doing okay."

KaNack started for the stables with the ghostly assassin following close behind.

"By the way, how is that little thrall you've taken under your wing in the Void?" KaNack asked, trying to get the ghost to stop fretting over the upset taking place in the Void. The phantom thought over this as he kept his pace alongside the Listener.

"He is making progress," the Speaker explained quietly. "It has been taking longer than I would have liked, but eventually he'll be ready to join the other spirits that guard these halls."

KaNack smirked as he thought about the other spirits who guarded the Dawnstar sanctuary. Fortunately, when it became obvious that the Keeper's life was no longer in danger, the guardians were much more accommodating when they had been summoned back. "I cannot believe Sithis agreed to allow a thrall that was not a part of the Brotherhood to be eligible for guarding our sanctuary."

"It was no easy feat," Lucien muttered. "Our unholy matron graced me with Her presence, and She was willing to convince the Dread Father on my behalf." A sad smile formed on the specter's face. "I think She saw it as a way for making up for the suffering I endured in Applewatch."

Leaving it at that, the Listener made his way to the stables. He and his fellow assassins had a long trip ahead of them to Solitude. He was eager however, it would give him some time to spend with his Dunmer love, as well as send yet another soul to the Void in the name of his deity.


	2. I Thought They Were Good

"Honor to you, thane!" an Imperial guard greeted the Argonian as he and his family entered Solitude.

They were all dressed in their fancy clothes, so they did not draw any unnecessary attention to themselves.

Familiar faces greeted the Argonian and welcomed him back as he was the favored son of Solitude. There was hardly a citizen that lived within the walls that did not know of the red and black Argonian who joined General Tullius and defeated the ruthless Ulfric Stormcloak. To this day, the Jarl of Windhelm's personal outfit hung in Proudspire Manor as a well deserved trophy.

The residents of the capital were very familiar with the Dragonborn's company and showed proper respect to the transparent blue man that accompanied him wherever he went. Lachance arched to the side as he avoided a group of children that were chasing each other around the streets of the merchant district. The Speaker found it quite relieving that the citizens no longer treated him as some kind of common summon, but an actual living and breathing person. It was much easier than having to wear the damned black shroud all the time.

The reptile sucked in a deep breath of fresh air as he enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun on his scales. It felt good to once again be home in Solitude. Many of his friends outside the 'family business' were here, and returning to the town was always a special moment for him.

"Vytalas, I want you and Kaie to be on your guard here," the Listener said as he continued to walk down the cobbled path of the district. "The Imperial soldiers here are little stricter here than the ones you find in…."

"They took off two minutes after we arrived," Lucien said calmly to the Listener.

KaNack spun around and saw that indeed the two assassins were gone. Honestly, he should not have been surprised.

Vytalas and Kaie had made it very clear during the trip that they were excited to start wandering about Solitude for some shopping as well as scoping out their assigned prey. That did not excuse them from just running off the first chance they got; they should have waited to be dismissed by their leader.

The mage threw his hands into the air in frustration and grumbled loudly. "If they get themselves thrown into the stocks, I'm not going to bail them out."

The Spectral Assassin chuckled lightly as he walked alongside the reptile, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the stronghold. He understood what his caster was going through.

"The young and restless," uttered the spirit as he shook his head, "they mean well, but have absolutely no patience. They remind me of another assassin when he was still learning about the thrill of the hunt."

"Who?" KaNack's eyebrows rose and he nudged the ghost playfully. "You mean me, don't you?"

"Always so impatient," Lachance replied in great amusement.

"Legate KaNack!" a familiar voice shouted.

The Argonian looked to the side and saw an armored Nord woman coming his way. It wasn't until she got much closer that he recognized her as Legate Rikke. It had been some time since he had seen her in her Imperial officer armor. Once the Chief Lieutenant was face to face with the reptile, she saluted and KaNack quickly returned the gesture.

"The General needs to speak with you, now!"

"Now?" the reptile was surprised. He and Tullius were on good terms, but after the defeat of Windhelm, the mage was never asked to return to Castle Dour except for just some reminiscing with his old friend from the Imperial Army.

"Did I stutter?" she snapped. The legate quickly rushed back the way she came. KaNack had been hoping that he would have some time to spend with Brelyna before he had to meet with his contact, but he could tell just by looking at Rikke that something was terribly wrong. It took a great deal to agitate Tullius' second-in-command, and that unnerved the mage.

"Not one word, Lucien," KaNack hissed as he scowled at the ghost. He didn't want to think that this had anything to do with his spirit's unease the previous night. It would only give the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood more reason to be concerned and that wouldn't help either of them.

It was surreal making the sprint to the Imperial headquarters; it was as though he were back in time. As promised back when he was younger, he and his four companions joined Tullius' army to fight off the Stormcloaks. It had been hard and dangerous work, and nearly ended in tragedy when one of them was taken as a prisoner of war. They all survived, however, and that in itself was a blessing.

The thane of Solitude's pace quickened as Castle Dour came into view. He hoped that it was only a simple matter, such as a bandit camp or a troll that had gotten too close to the public roads of Solitude. A minor incident that could easily be resolved within the day.

The Argonian rushed past the archers training in the courtyard and ignored their salutes and praise as he headed towards the door. KaNack entered the fortress and marched proudly through the narrow, stone passage that led to the strategy room of the castle.

The General was once again in his battle armor and leaning over a large map of Skyrim, just as he had been years ago when planning the invasion of Windhelm. The Imperial bore a few more wrinkles than before, but he still looked as strong and determined as ever. The Military Governor spotted his old friend and motioned for the reptile to hurry over.

"What seems to be the problem, Tullius?" the mage asked as he looked down at the map hoping that it would give him an idea of what exactly the General was planning. "Rikke seemed rather upset."

"She has every reason to be," Tullius growled as he stood up straight to face his brother in arms. "I know I can rely on you, KaNack. You've more than proven your devotion to the Empire in your services. That's why I am willing to trust no one but you in this matter." The older man's gray eyes narrowed before he continued. "I'm sure you are quite familiar with the guild known as the Dark Brotherhood?"

The Argonian froze before he and his Spectral Assassin shared a look. This had been the first that he had ever heard the Imperial bring up the assassins' faction, and that was not a good thing. The last thing that the Argonian needed was the Imperials going after the family.

"Uh, yes. I think I might have heard their name mentioned once or twice in the past."

"Yes, they've made quite the comeback in the last few years," hissed the Imperial. "It seems nowhere in Tamriel is safe from those vicious killers." He grunted in disgust as he brushed back his silver hair.

"I thought these bastards were good. For Mara's sake, they murdered our Emperor right in our own docks. Shameful! Unacceptable!" Tullius glared at KaNack, angry at himself for allowing the death of the Emperor to occur under his watch. "They obviously knew what they were doing."

"Obviously," Lucien quietly answered, unable to hide a smile on his face. The Argonian elbowed the ghost, hoping that Tullius would ignore the comment. Tullius, fortunately, never really paid much attention to the spirit, and this time was no different.

"Hands must have changed in that assassins' guild though," the General continued as he smirked. "They're getting sloppy now."

"Sloppy?" KaNack snapped.

The General shot him a confused look, not expecting his companion's reaction.

The Argonian cleared his throat as his Spectral Assassin covered his face with his hand in frustration. Neither of the two assassins was handling themselves well in front of Imperial Army's leader. KaNack quickly tried to rectify his response to Tullius. "I mean…I would be shocked that such a dangerous faction would suddenly become careless."

"Normally I would agree, but look at this!" Tullius handed the mage a folded letter. KaNack opened it and read its contents, the news was grim indeed.

"It's from Whiterun," the General hissed through gritted teeth. "Citizens have been found all over, killed in the middle of the night." He shook his head and let out a guttural huff. "Not just there either, it's also occurred in most of the cities in Skyrim. In the last month we've had fifteen murders in total."

The Listener's eyes narrowed as he read over the report that had been sent from Whiterun. This was not the work of his family, he was very sure of it. None of the other sanctuaries in Skyrim contained restless assassins that were prone to go on killing sprees. The Dark Brotherhood was not the perpetrator of these deaths.

"Not that I doubt you, sir," KaNack stated, "but how do you know that this is connected to the Dark Brotherhood?"

The mage jumped as the Imperial slammed his fist hard onto the table, the bang echoed throughout the stony chamber they were in. "Because every victim had a black handprint somewhere on their body!" the Imperial snarled as his eyes burned with hatred. "That is their symbol! Their calling card! Those murderers are MOCKING us!"

KaNack was startled by the news and he spun around to stare at Lachance. There was so much he wanted to say and ask, but nothing could be brought up in General Tullius' presence. The ghost's brow furrowed as his blind eyes narrowed in fury. The Brotherhood leader could see that Lucien was seething deep within, but was relieved that the spirit had enough sense to hold his tongue.

"Well, that does certainly sound damning," the mage muttered quietly, "but doesn't it seem a little odd that after more than a century of handling themselves a certain way, the Dark Brotherhood would suddenly just leave a calling card?"

"That's the beauty of criminals, KaNack," the Imperial growled as he tapped his own head. "Eventually they become cocky and start to make mistakes." Tullius crossed his arms as he glowered at his legate. "I want you to get to the bottom of this. The victims are all random and seem to have no connection. It appears that those cutthroats no longer want to wait for contracts and now are on a killing spree."

"I…" the Argonian started, "I will get right on this, General."

"Good man, I knew I could rely on you. Contact me the moment you come up with something."

The two saluted each other, and then the mage walked as quickly as he could out of the castle. He and the spirit sped to an isolated part of the city in which they knew they could speak openly to one another. Far away from prying ears, the Speaker could finally release his frustration.

"What is this nonsense?" Lucien hissed furiously as he began to pace. "None of the brothers or sisters had Whiterun contracts last month. This is not our handiwork."

"The whole thing is sketchy," KaNack concurred as his brow furrowed in thought. "We seem to have a Dark Brotherhood copycat. Whoever they are, they're making us look out of control and unreasonably careless."

"This shameful scandal shall not go unpunished by Sithis," the Spectral Assassin growled darkly as he grabbed the hilt of his blade. "We must find these miserable cutthroats and send their filthy souls to the Void." Releasing his blade, Lachance shook his head in frustration. "I know you have a target in this city, and I hate to ignore the Night Mother's wishes, but I fear that this takes precedence over your current contract."

"When you're right, you're right," the Argonian sighed. "Dammit, we have to catch this culprit and clear the Dark Brotherhood's name before Tullius makes this bigger than it is. He has just been waiting for an excuse to go after us. With more sanctuaries in Skyrim, it won't take long for the General's forces to find one if he's determined enough."

"What of your brother and sister in this city?"

"They can take care of themselves; we have to get to Whiterun. If we're lucky, that wretch might still be there."

The Argonian would not get to see his loving Brelyna's face that week. The Dark Brotherhood reputation was being slandered and it had to be stopped. The Listener and Lachance sped out of Solitude towards the stables; they were to leave for Whiterun that night.

* * *

Neither Vytalas nor Kaie were supposed to fulfill their contracts until the following night, so most of the day and evening had been spent shopping in the merchant district of Solitude and after dropping off their supplies at the Winking Skeever, began to prowl after their would-be prey. Kaie's target was a rather bitter chambermaid in the Blue Palace whereas Vytalas just had a boring drunkard who had avoided paying his debts for just a bit too long.

Giving the home's door a quick rap, Vytalas and Kaie waited patiently as they stood in front of Proudspire Manor. Their leader made it quite clear that they were not going to be spending the night there, but they could at least get a free meal and a chance to relax with the Listener and his spouse.

The door was pulled opened and they were not greeted by a sweet Dunmer, but a rather tired looking Nord. Her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion when she saw the two and promptly brushed a strand of her golden hair out of her face. Jordis the housecarl had not yet been assigned to the Argonian the last time the two visited Solitude, and seeing the strange woman confused the assassins greatly.

"Can I help either of you?" she asked gruffly, as the time was late and her lady was relaxing by the fire with a book.

"Hi," Kaie chirped sweetly as she brandished her kindest smile to the woman. "We're friends of KaNack. May we come in?"

"My thane is not at home, and I do not know either of you," she answered coldly as she crossed her arms. "If he returns and bids you welcome, then you may enter." The Nord took her duty very seriously and would never allow strangers to enter Proudspire.

Vytalas looked at his dear assassin in confusion before turning back to the intimidating woman. "What do you mean he's not at home?"

"Jordis, who is it?" a sweet voice called from inside.

"Brelyna! It's Vy and Kaie!" the younger assassin called out, leaning slightly around the housecarl to look inside the manor. "This woman claims you don't know us!"

The Breton was relieved when she heard gentle laughter from within, and soon the lovely Dark Elf made her way to the door and rested a hand on Jordis' shoulder.

"I know them, dear," she insisted. "They can come in. They're friends KaNack made during his travels."

Begrudgingly, Jordis stood to the side to allow the two Dark Brotherhood members entrance. Brelyna politely motioned for them to follow her as she led them to the dining quarters in Proudspire.

"I'm sorry; Jordis doesn't know many of my husband's friends. She's a lovely woman, but can be quite aggressive at times."

Once they had all taken their seats at the sturdy oak table, the Listener's wife poured the two a cup of tea from a kettle that had been steaming over the fire. "If you two are here, that must mean that my dear KaNack cannot be too far. Where is that man?"

"Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you that he hasn't shown up," Vytalas explained before blowing steam from his cup. "We arrived in Solitude almost eight hours ago."

This made the Dark Elf's red eyes widen in concern. "That's not like him at all," she answered quietly. "Did he seem alright the last time you saw him?"

"He seemed to heading to Proudspire when we arrived," Kaie answered, starting to become worried as well. She quickly held up her hands and motioned for Brelyna to calm herself. "I am sure he has his reasons! You know how impulsive he can be!"

"Yes," the Dunmer agreed. Her head then shot up when a realization hit her. "Oh! Of course!" She let out a frustrated sigh. "The General came here a few days ago and asked me to send KaNack his way when he came back home."

"The General?" Vytalas asked. "You mean General Tullius?"

Relief swept over the mage as she began to try and piece together what had happened. "That stubborn old saber cat," she chuckled, "I bet my husband didn't get more than three paces past Castle Dour before that Imperial pounced on him." Brelyna then frowned again. "He didn't share all the details with me, but the General seemed rather adamant on speaking with KaNack."

This bit of news did nothing to sooth either of the Dark Brotherhood assassins' nerves. If the leader of the Imperial Army was on alert that meant that security in Solitude would have been tightened. It would be much more difficult to kill without being noticed.

"Oh, you two have nothing to worry about!" the Dark Elf laughed when she saw the nervous looks in their eyes. "You should have seen my husband during the war. I don't think there was anything that could stop him on the battlefield. Whatever Tullius wants, I am not too concerned." She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Ulfric Stormcloak was defeated and Alduin the World Eater is dead. There really is no great threat plaguing our land at the moment."

"Well, if your husband is not here, we won't trouble you any further," Vytalas insisted as he got up from his seat and politely bowed to her. "Thank you, once again, for your hospitality, Brelyna."

"What about din…?"

The assassin rested a strong but loving hand on the Breton's shoulder. "Yes, we'll be getting our dinner at the Winking Skeever." He grinned at the Dunmer who still seemed rather puzzled at their odd behavior.

"Are you sure you don't wish to stay?"

"You've done more than enough!" the archer stated as he began to lead his lover out, forcing her to have to drop off her teacup on a nearby shelf as she was hurried out of the room.

"If you see KaNack, please tell him to see me if he can!" she called after them.

Vytalas didn't stop nudging his fellow assassin forward until both of them were once again on the quiet streets of Solitude.

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed at the Dark Elf. "Why were you in such a rush to leave?"

"Think about it," he hissed as he guided her through the city. "KaNack vanishes without so much as a word and the General is up in arms? Something big is going down and we have to be ready for it."

The archer led Kaie to the Blue Palace and his suspicions were confirmed after taking one look at it. There were four guards just standing before the doors of Jarl Elisif's castle.

"See?" he growled as his red eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Security is tight here. We can't afford any slip ups during our assassinations."

"Pbbt!" Kaie wrapped her arms around her lover's neck and nuzzled him, despite the angry expression plastered on his face. "You're treating me like some novice killer. I know how to remain unseen…YOU my pointy eared friend, keep yourself at a distance. Neither of us is in any danger, so please just relax."

"You're always so lighthearted about everything," Vytalas grumbled as he pulled away from her and started towards the Winking Skeever which was where he was likely to also find his target. "The last thing I want is you getting your head chopped off because you let your guard down."

"Would you still love me if all you had was my body?" the Breton purred as she hurried ahead of him and posed seductively, running her fingers through her long reddish-gold hair.

Vytalas grumbled as he scowled at the playful woman before him. He was always serious and she was mischievous, they appeared to be complete opposites and yet that only seemed to bring them even closer together. "I would love you more if you remained intact."

Unable to resist the Breton's flirtatious charms, the Dunmer found himself wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "You make me worry, Kaie."

The female assassin could only smile as she reached up and gently ran her fingers along one of the archer's curved ears. Kaie smirked as she heard a sound very similar to purring rumbling in her lover's throat.

"How am I supposed to let you know how serious I am if you insist on tickling my ear?" he chuckled lightly as he nuzzled into her neck.

"We're going to be fine, Vytalas," the Breton sighed as she turned around to embrace the strong Elf. He was a quick and swift assassin, but still she could feel the strong muscles hidden underneath his baggy cloak. "We'll complete our assignments tomorrow night and then head back to the sanctuary. Nothing has changed. Nothing is going to go wrong." She had to stand on her toes in order to press her lips against those of the tall Dunmer. "Trust me."

"As though I have any other choice, love," the archer muttered quietly in amusement. The two then continued to stroll through the dark streets of Solitude towards the Winking Skeever. They were well aware of the increase in guards, but since when has more security ever protected anyone one from the Dark Brotherhood?


	3. Cry of the Companions

It was a bittersweet homecoming for the Argonian when he approached the gates of the city. For years, the town of Whiterun was a source of resentment for KaNack, but once he returned, ready to serve as the Dragonborn, he saw it as a warm and welcoming town. Being sent here by Tullius reminded him of when he stood side-by-side with his friends as they held off the Stormcloak invasion, and he felt a heavy lump in the pit of his stomach.

Tullius' suspicions that the Dark Brotherhood had been responsible for the chain of killings that had taken place in Whiterun unnerved him. The Dark Brotherhood was not a faction people took lightly; whoever was setting them up was either very clever or exceptionally stupid. Nothing changed the fact that it was of the utmost importance that whomever was responsible had to be stopped and exposed.

KaNack looked over at the Spectral Assassin who strode calmly next to him. The mage knew better than to believe the cool disposition of the ghost; Lachance was seething deep within and anxious about clearing the Dark Brotherhood's name.

The first stop they had to make was to the Hall of the Dead, a look at bodies would give them an idea of how the victims were killed and an insight of how the killer worked. To catch a ruthless murderer, you had to be able to think like one, which KaNack and Lucien did very well.

Lucien and the Listener had just started up the familiar cobblestone road towards the shopping district, when a sickly familiar scent made the reptile freeze in his tracks. KaNack's nose perked up as he began to sniff about, trying to pinpoint where the smell was coming from

"What do you sense, Listener?"

His lips curling up in a snarl, the Brotherhood leader turned to his spirit. "Blood, a lot of it," he growled softly.

"By Sithis," Lucien muttered as his eyes narrowed. "It cannot be the same victims. Have we arrived too late?"

Furious shouting and wails of despair alerted the assassins that indeed it was not the same victims but a new one. The mage cursed loudly as he and the Dark Brotherhood spirit ran towards the commotion. A large crowd had gathered around the steps leading to Jorrvaskr and had tried to push past the Imperial guards to get a better look at the grisly scene. KaNack and the spirit stayed slightly off to the side, hoping that the guards shouting would alert them to just what had taken place.

As the Imperial guards attempted to get the crowd to disperse, behind them all Oblivion was breaking loose.

"I will murder every last one of them!" the Nord howled at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking from both rage and despair. "I will track them down like the cowardly animals they are and rip each of their throats out!"

It was Vilkas. He and all of the Companions were in an uproar. The town had not seen them in such a state since they had been attacked and invaded by an outside faction several years prior. From where he was standing, the Argonian could see the residents of Jorrvaskr trying to hold back the thrashing and raging Nord.

"Vilkas! Come inside! We can't discuss this out here!" the red haired female barked at him as she seemed to be able to pull the man back much easier than the mage would have expected. When the Companions vanished behind the doors of their stronghold, the crowd began to disperse, seeing that the drama was over as far as they were concerned. No one who was not a part of the guild would dare try and approach them in the state they were in…Well, almost no one.

KaNack rubbed his chin as he thought over his options. It would be impossible to get a straight answer from the Companion, and even though he was getting better at stealth, he was very easy to see in the bright sun. Making his presence known would either turn the faction's anger on himself or they would simply shut him out leaving him deprived of answers. If the Listener wanted to find out what had happened and what the guild was plotting, he would have to be invisible and a master of discretion. Turning to his Spectral Assassin and the answer became quite clear.

"Lucien," the reptile stated, "you are damn near impossible to see in the light. Do you think you can get up there and find out what happened?"

"Let a master show you how it's done," the spirit grumbled as he took off into the shadows.

The spirit was pale and unless one was actually looking for him, Lachance could travel in the bright sun without alerting anyone to his presence. Sneaking about in the dark was second nature to Lucien, but trying to remain undetected by angry barbarians in the bright hours of morning was a feat he had never attempted before. What an interesting challenge. The ghost moved silently around buildings and scaled the wall that led to Jorrvaskr.

The Dark Brotherhood spirit flattened himself against the outer wall of the building and snaked along it towards a window. Tilting his head just slightly, he gazed into the heart of the Companion's lair. All of the members were gathered close, and Vilkas was destroying things left and right in his anger.

"They killed Farkas! They killed him in cold blood, Aela!" he roared at the redhead before him. "Their bloody black handprint was pressed right into his face!"

"I know you want vengeance, Vilkas!" Aela shouted at him. "We don't know where to find the Dark Brotherhood though! We weren't even able to pick up a scent! Our brother was killed by fire!"

"He was MY brother!" Vilkas howled as his teeth began to turn to fangs in his rage.

Lucien tensed up as he saw the change in the enraged Nord. Clearly there was more to these Companions than met the eye. Over time the spirit had become familiar with the creatures that resided in the realm of Skyrim, he only prayed that this Nord was not what he suspected he was.

"This is not going to end well," the Speaker whispered under his breath as he continued to listen in on the guild's ranting.

"I know that the Dark Brotherhood leader is a mage! He killed Farkas! He and all of those miserable assassins will feel my claws and teeth rip into them!" Vilkas snarled as he smashed his fist onto one of the tables, breaking it in half.

Tullius had indeed sent the Argonian too late, and now one of the main factions in Skyrim was preparing for revenge on the wrong guild. This was exactly what the assassins had hoped to avoid.

"The Dark Brotherhood never kills without a contract," Eorlund, the Companion's blacksmith, stated as he tried to make sense of the situation. "We need to find out who wished Farkas' death and make them suffer."

"Are you blind?!" Vilkas snarled as he got into the Nord's face. "They no long care about contracts! Three people have been slain in Whiterun in the last week! Farkas makes four! I say we take the fight to them!"

"And how do you plan to do that?" Aela snapped as she struck Vilkas hard in the back of his head. "Your heart is in the right place, but you aren't thinking! We DON'T know where they are!"

"They have sanctuaries hidden about Skyrim," the mourning Companion growled at her. "It's all a matter of finding their rat holes and getting inside!"

This news caused a deal of concern to build up within Lachance and his eyes narrowed. True, the Companions might be able to find a Black Door, but without knowing one of the passwords, they had no hope of entering one of the Brotherhood's havens.

"Cowardly cutthroats!" Vignar suddenly rasped out after a long period of silence. "They've spilled blood from the Circle. There is no choice other than their complete and utter annihilation!"

All the Companions roared and shouted in agreement as they drew swords and blades from their respective sheaths.

"For Farkas! Death to the Brotherhood!" Vilkas howled as he raised his fist into the air grasping the hilt of his Skyforge steel sword.

The echo of the Nord's cheer did nothing for Lucien's nerves. His brow furrowed as he edged away from the window and started back down the stairs to his Listener. He had heard more than enough to know that time was now of the essence.

KaNack had been patiently waiting on one of the decorative benches by the old Gildergreen tree. His head picked up when he saw the Spectral Assassin approaching.

"Did you learn anything?"

The specter crossed his arms as he stared at his caster in concern. "It seems Farkas has been our copycat's latest victim," the ghost uttered miserably.

"That insane Nord with the huge greatsword?!" KaNack exclaimed. The mage groaned and held his face in his hands, shaking his head. "No, no, no, this is not good. All of those Companions are maniacs. I avoided them like crazy when I was living here."

"They mean to avenge their fallen brother by seeking out the sanctuaries of Skyrim," Lachance remarked as he scowled back up at the Companion's stronghold. "If you have the next course of action, now would be a good time to share it with me." Lachance frowned as he looked back at the Listener. "That guild up there is out for blood. Your blood."

"Well, since my head is still attached to my body, I can only assume that none of them have connected me with the Dark Brotherhood. The sanctuaries have remained undiscovered so far. I only hope that we still have time to remedy this before one of us is wrongfully punished for these killings." The Argonian leaned back and stared up into the blue sky that was littered with soft white clouds; it was such a lovely day, and yet such a horrible time.

"YOU!"

KaNack leaped out of the bench and froze when he saw Vilkas furiously making his way towards him, murder in his eyes. The Argonian held up his hands and frantically motioned for Vilkas to calm down. He knew that the Companion was strong and the mage had no interest in a confrontation with the man.

"Stop! Wait! WAIT!" KaNack exclaimed, hoping to having to avoid striking the Nord down with a spell. That wouldn't help either of them.

Snarling in rage, Lucien sprang in front of his Listener and unsheathed his blade. The spectral dagger swung forth and was held to the Nord's throat stopping his approach. Vilkas' dark eyes narrowed as he stared at the spirit before him.

"Touch him, and die," Lachance threatened in a dark and guttural tone.

"Out of my way, ghoul!" Vilkas growled, unfazed by the spirit's presence and threat. With one swing of his arm, Lucien was hurled a good thirty feet from his caster. Vilkas was making no attempt to hide his inner strength from anyone at this point.

"Lucien!"

KaNack started to rush to his friend's aid, but Vilkas grabbed him by the front of his mage robes and pulled him close so that he and the reptile were nose-to-nose, not an easy feat since the Nord had a good five inches on the Brotherhood leader.

"I remember you," he grumbled as he looked the Argonian up and down. "You were the one who helped those Imperials fight off Ulfric's forces." The Companion teeth bared in a snarl as he glared at the Listener.

KaNack swallowed nervously, he was certainly not prepared to be on a barbarian's bad side. "You're strong and fearless, that much I could gather from you when you were here. You are also able to track down bandits and thieves scattered about the land. You seem to have a gift for finding those who wish to remain undiscovered."

Vilkas finally released his deadly grasp on the mage's robes and allowed the reptile to drop on his feet. The Companion calmed himself and crossed his arms before he addressed the reptile once more.

"I am sure you managed to overhear the guards. My brother Farkas was slain at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood. The Companions desire vengeance, but we will need help tracking these murderers down." He pointed at the Argonian viciously. "You are going to help us find them, mage!"

KaNack took a step back, and his mind clouded for a moment. He didn't have time to send the Companions off on false trails; he needed to catch the real killer. "Find them? The Dark Brotherhood?" he snapped. Waving his hands dismissively, he shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no idea how I could possibly help you with that!"

Upon the Listener's refusal, Vilkas' head tilted to the side, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Funny thing about liars," the Nord growled darkly as he approached KaNack. "Their hearts always seem to beat the fastest when they try to hide the truth." The Companion grabbed the reptile fiercely by the throat, pressing his thumb hard into KaNack's neck. "What are you hiding from me, Argonian?"

Vilkas let out a snarl of pain as KaNack grasped the Nord's hands and sent a minor, but painful, surge of sparks up the man's arms. It was enough to free him from the barbarian's grasp and retreat a safer distance away.

"It would be in your best interest to keep your hands to yourself, Nord!" the mage growled as him. "I was sent here by General Tullius to look into these murders. I take commands from him, not you! I have my orders and must abide by them. I can't help you or the Companions at this moment, my hands are tied."

KaNack had hoped that his explanation would be good enough for Vilkas, but that was not going to be the case. The Circle member glowered at the reptile and began prowling towards him, forcing the Argonian to back away down the path where Lachance was getting back to his feet. It was clear to the Listener that the Nord was not taking 'No' for an answer.

"Listen, Farkas…."

"I'M VILKAS!" the enraged man roared at him loudly as his eyes began to glow yellow. "Farkas is the one those bastards murdered!" Vilkas continued to skulk forward until the reptile was once again standing next to his Spectral Assassin.

"His eyes," Lucien hissed as he pointed a transparent finger at the Companion. KaNack finally noticed that Vilkas' eyes were glowing a vibrant yellow.

"Vilkas, your eyes! Why are…?!" A shiver ran down KaNack's body as the furious Nord came ever closer. The Argonian realized that Vilkas was not just some violent Nord; he was something demonic and deadly.

Lucien brandished his blade as he and KaNack got into their defensive positions. The spirit prepared to strike and the mage got into his casting stance. Whatever Vilkas was, neither wanted to stay long enough to find out.

"I am sorry for your loss, Vilkas," the reptile hissed. "I truly am, but if you continue to threaten me, I will not hesitate to defend myself."

"Why are you so unwillingly to assist the Companions?" the Nord growled darkly, stopping his approach momentarily. "Are you with them? Are you with those assassins?"

"I think we should leave," Lachance muttered towards the mage.

"No kidding," KaNack sneered, before glaring back at the Nord. "I gave you my reasons, Vilkas. If you can't accept them, then that's just too damn bad, isn't it?"

Having reached his limit, Vilkas let out a bellowing roar, his teeth revealed to be sharper and his eyes still blazing a vibrant yellow. The sight of the half-shifted Companion made both of the Dark Brotherhood members jump in shock. The two assassins turned to stare at each other.

"Definitely time to go," KaNack uttered quickly to the spirit as he gestured to the gates behind him with his head.

"Agreed."

The two burst through the large gates of Whiterun towards the stables with the snarling Nord close behind. The Listener released a loud piercing whistle that echoed through the valley and Shadowmere raced out from the stables below in a mad dash to get to her caretaker.

The Argonian leaped onto the horse's back and reached down grabbing Lucien's arm to pull him up as well. Shadowmere whinnied loudly and kicked her back legs out, her sharp hooves contacting Vilkas' skull as the Companion launched at the two.

"Farragut!"

With both the Spectral Assassin and the Listener on her back, the black mare took off at top speed, disappearing into the meadows below. KaNack could hear roars about vengeance, tracking and throat ripping from the enraged Companion as Shadowmere continued to race across the plains.

"Nords!" the Argonian snarled furiously with a shake of his head as he turned to glare at Lachance. "Why is it always the damned Nords who turn out to be the insane ones?!"


	4. I Told You To Run

Vytalas was rather relaxed on his perch on the roof of Radiant Raiment. It had a perfect vantage point of the Winking Skeever, where soon enough his target would emerge, drunk and oblivious to the danger he was in.

The Dunmer tapped his knee impatiently with an arrow as his red eyes remained focused on the inn's doors. Guards patrolled down the road every once in a while, but it was spread out enough that the Dunmer felt secure in his decision to end his prey's life in front of the Winking Skeever.

His instructions were to make it obvious that it was a hit; a warning to those to not ever try and worm their way out of paying their debts. This could easily be accomplished with one strike of his arrows. The Dark Elf decided to use a Dwarven arrow since he had just recently purchased ebony ones from the Solitude Fletcher, best to not leave anything that might trace him back to the kill.

Pulling his eyes away from the Winking Skeever for just a moment, the Dunmer glanced over towards the Blue Palace. At this very moment, Kaie was skulking her way through the castle, preparing to end the life of some nameless servant. Vytalas tried to convince himself that most of the security was going to be focused on the jarl and the Breton was unlikely to be caught. Still though, he worried for her safety. She may have been a skilled and deadly assassin, but her playful nature always seemed to make Vytalas think otherwise.

The two were supposed to meet on the Solitude docks once they had completed their assignments. Kaie was always a master of remaining unseen, so the Dark Elf had no way of knowing if his lover was already down there waiting for him or not. All he knew was the sooner they left Solitude, the sooner that would get some answers from their leader.

"Yeah! Yeah! I'm leaving!" a gruff voice snarled from below. The archer's eyes returned to the Winking Skeever, and he was pleased to see that his target had been unceremoniously ejected from the inn. Sucking in a deep breath, he positioned the Dwarven arrow in his bow and then slowly began to aim at the drunkard Nord. He targeted for the very back of the man's head, it would be an instant death and there would be no doubt that this was an intentional hit.

Vytalas squeezed one eye shut and licked at his lips as he waited for the right moment to release. His breathing evened and time seemed to stand still. After his hours of training with the spirit of Lachance, the Dunmer had been taught to never rush; to enjoy the hunt; to make sure that if one was going to use a bow, that the target went down in one hit. He released the arrow and heard a reassuring grunt, followed by a thud. Yet another soul had been sent to the Void in the name of Sithis and the Night Mother.

The Dark Elf stood up on the roof and sheathed the ebony bow on his back, his work done. All he had to do now was go to the docks and meet with his lovely Breton. As he started to leave, the Dunmer picked up the sounds of shuffling feet. Turning on his heels, the assassin was surprised to see another archer speeding towards him, racing across the roofs as though they were not even there. The strange person paused before him for just a moment and they locked eyes.

It was a female Dunmer, that much he could tell by the color of her skin and eyes. A dark red cowl hid the bottom half of the woman's face. The cloak she wore seemed to resemble his, but the female's was reddish in color while his was black. Vytalas could only stare, unsure what to do. Had this elf seen him kill the Nord? Did he need to tie up loose ends?

"Sorry sweetie," she said suddenly as she ran a hand along his cheek lovingly. "I'd run if I were you."

With that, she took off once more and seemed to vanish up into the guard towers.

"Run?" the Brotherhood member muttered under his breath.

The sounds that followed alerted the archer that his fellow Dunmer's warning was not false. He could hear the Imperial guards in the distance screaming furiously; it was only a matter of time before they made their way to the gates of Solitude.

Something had gone wrong! The soldiers were up in arms and sounded dead set on destroying whatever had riled their fury.

"Kaie," he hissed under his breath in realization. The Dark Elf raced across the rooftops towards the sound, praying that the Breton was already at the docks. A high pitched cry of pain, however, made him realize in horror just whom the Imperials were after. "KAIE!"

He leaped from the roof of Bits and Pieces, landing hard onto the stony path below. Sure enough, the Breton raced towards him, her right hand grasping at a shoulder that had a gruesome arrow sticking out of it. She looked both terrified and relieved when she came upon Vytalas.

"Run! Run! They're coming!" she screamed as she gave her lover a slight push forward before heading towards the gates of Solitude. The Dunmer's eyes narrowed in fury as he could hear the roars of the guards getting closer.

"The murderer went this way! Don't let her get away!"

Vytalas bared his teeth in a snarl, but turned on his heels and chased after Kaie. She had been hurt badly and knew that she would not be able to escape the mob on her own. The archer assisted her in pushing open the heavy door and slipping outside, slamming it shut behind them. It was only then that Kaie began to show evidence of just how much pain she was in.

"By Sithis," she whimpered as she tried to pull the arrow from her shoulder.

"Don't!" Vytalas cried out as he grasped her wrist. "You pull it out without a care and you might not ever recover from the wound!" He gave her a gentle push forward. "You know how to keep hidden; you go ahead to the horses! I'll try and distract them!"

"No!"

"Keep to the shadows, Kaie! Ride to Dragon Bridge. I'll meet you there!" the Dark Elf insisted as he pointed furiously in the other direction. "GO!"

"Vy, they'll kill you!" the Breton sobbed as she used her good arm to pull herself to him.

"No they won't! I promise you will see me again!" He rested his forehead against hers; he knew that she did not want to leave him behind, however in her condition; she would quickly be taken by Tullius' men.

Seconds mattered, he could hear the Imperial guards getting closer. Stepping away from the woman, the Dunmer pulled out his bow and started to back away so he would have a clear shot once the doors were opened.

The Breton could not hold back her tears as she raced to the shadows and began to sprint to where she and Vytalas' horses were being kept. Kaie's lover had yet to break a promise to her, if he did not keep this one; she swore she would make him suffer for it.

With the Breton rushing to safety, Vytalas could now put all his focus on the enemies that were approaching him. From his quiver, he pulled out a special ebony arrow that had a small linen bag tied to it. This was an arrow to be used only in the direst of times. He drew the arrow and took aim, waiting for just the right moment. His heart pounded as each second passed and the shouting got louder.

"Sithis guide me," he whispered quietly as he saw the large door open. The enraged Imperials had just stepped outside of Solitude when the assassin released the arrow. It flew quickly past the soldiers and into a lit sconce that had been lighting the area.

Men ducked for cover and were thrown back from the force as the area around them seemed to explode and fire erupted all around them. This was an arrow that had been prepared specifically by Babette; the unchild had told him that if he shot it into an open flame, the wrath of Sithis Himself would come forth from it. The vampire had not lied.

"Imperial bastards!" Vytalas snarled at guards as he took off towards the cliffs that overhung the Karth River. There were still archers, so running was out of the question; the explosion would only give him so much time before he was pursued.

"Up! Get up!" Tullius shoved his way to the front of the legion and glared furiously after the fleeing Dark Brotherhood archer. "Don't you let that assassin escape!" he thundered, drawing his daedric sword from its sheath and charging after the Dunmer.

Vytalas found himself at the edge of the cliff, peering down at the river below. He was unsure if the water was going to be deep enough for him to survive the drop. Turning around, he saw the General coming right for him, weapon in hand. At this point, he was dead either way, so his fate was now in his deity's hands. The assassin flung himself from the edge of the overhang just as the Imperial reached him and swung his blade. The elf managed to get into a diving position and the vanished into the murky water below.

The General's teeth gritted with fury as he scanned the river, desperately seeking out the Brotherhood member. A tall bearded Imperial made his way over to his leader and looked down at the Karth River.

"What madness drove him to leap down there?" the man muttered with a shake of his head.

"Captain Aldis," the older man growled as he rose to his feet, sheathing his sword, "I gave you orders to have your men patrolling every inch of Solitude, and this is what happens?"

"I'm sorry, General," the man started, "I was sure that we were properly…"

"Rikke is dead now because of your incompetence!" the Imperial screamed into the Captain's face, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

"Do you think we're happy with the loss of Falk Firebeard?" Aldis retorted bitterly. "I thought the Brotherhood might have made an attempt on our jarl's life! I had my priorities!" The Imperial glowered at the furious military leader. "What happened within Castle Dour was out of my hands, General. My guards can only be so many places at once!"

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Aldis!" he roared. The General took a few ragged breaths as he tried to force himself to calm down. His eyes once again turned to the Karth River. "By the Eight," Tullius growled, "I will see to it that every last assassin in Skyrim is killed!" He reached forward and grabbed the Captain by the linen portion of his Imperial armor.

"Hear me, Aldis. If one more resident in Solitude falls victim to that cult, it won't only be the Dark Brotherhood's heads that will roll," he uttered in a dark and guttural voice.

"I don't appreciate threats, General," the Captain remarked as he pulled himself from the Imperial's grip.

"And I don't appreciate the fact that I now have to bury one of the finest women I'd had the honor of knowing." Tullius turned to face the remaining soldiers gathered before the gates of Solitude. "Head down to the river and see what you can find! If the assassin is dead, good riddance! If he's alive…." the older man's lip curled in a snarl, "bring him to me as such."

Vytalas' head finally burst from the river and he gasped in air. The Dark Elf had managed to survive the fall and had swum as far as he could before the need for oxygen got the better of him. Turning to face the towering cliffs, he was fairly sure that with both the distance and cloak of night aiding him, he could not be seen from the towering cliffs. The assassin weakly swam over to the shores opposite of Solitude and dragged himself onto land.

The escape exhausted him, but he knew that the Imperial guards would soon be patrolling the edges of the Karth River in search of him; the archer could only rest for so long. A small smile crept up the Dark Elf's face as he stared up at the star filled sky. He had provided more than enough time for Kaie to reach to the horses and get away. Wounded shoulder or not, the Imperials would never be able to catch her once she was on her stallion.

Vytalas struggled to his feet and glared back at the imposing capital. He had come so close to losing Kaie to the General and his men, this was not something he could take lightly. There was no time for brooding though, he had no horse, and his lovely Breton would be waiting for him in Dragon Bridge. It was vital that he found Kaie, tended to her injury and they return to the safety of the Dawnstar Sanctuary. If anyone could reason with that damned Tullius, it was the Listener.

The Dunmer growled deeply in his throat as he began to walk backwards, not willing to stop glaring in Solitude's general direction.

"Damn Cyrodiils," Vytalas hissed viciously. "It will take more than that to catch an elf."

The assassin's gloating did not last long as he felt something powerful overtake him. He could just make out the faintest hints of green as his body began to stiffen. No longer in control, the archer collapsed backwards, landing on the soft tall grass surrounding the shores of the Karth, seemingly frozen in place.

When training with Shaleez, he had fallen victim to this particular spell before- Paralyze. It was among one of the most dangerous spells that could be cast on an assassin, as it eliminated any hope of escape or defense; it was by all means, a death sentence.

"Yes, those damn Cyrodiils," a scratchy voice chuckled in the distance. "Imperials are rather stupid."

Vytalas' eyes darted back and forth; no doubt the voice belonged to whoever had cast the spell. For the next minute, all the Brotherhood member would be able to move would be his eyes. The archer was shocked when a tall Dark Elf suddenly loomed over him, quite smug with himself. "Another elf, though," he continued, "they know how to keep one properly restrained."

The assassin could sense that this Dunmer was older, much older than he appeared. His garb was similar to the one of the female he had run into Solitude, yet his looked more worn and much fancier. Dark red and black colors made up this elder's shroud.

"Dinya, please restrain our friend here so he won't try to rip our eyes out once the spell wears off."

Vytalas growled as he felt himself being rolled over onto his stomach and his hands being gently pulled behind his back.

"I told you to run, sweetie," a familiar voice purred in his ear. "Just had to go back for the Breton though, hmm?"

A growl rumbled in the assassin's throat as the female Dark Elf proceeded to effectively bind his hands together. Even with the spell wearing off, he had no way of striking out against his Dunmer attackers. Rather than leave him be, the petulant female decided to remain seated on the archer's back.

"Didn't I say he was a handsome one?" the elf said as she pulled back the assassin's hood to run her fingers through his long black hair. The female was sure that this was only angering their captive further, but that only increased her amusement.

"I know you don't have the capability of talking just yet," stated the older elf, "so allow me to take this opportunity to speak to you." The elf took a knee and despite the sympathetic expression on his face, his red eyes were burning with arrogance. "Please excuse our rough treatment. We hate to treat a fellow Dunmer in such a way, but I needed to make sure that you would hear me out before scampering off to that hidden mouse hole of yours."

A snarl began to form on Vytalas' face, but it was made very slow due to the spell.

"My name is Othrelos," he began softly, "the lovely lady sitting on you is Dinya. We are part of a very ancient and honorable guild known at the Morag Tong. I have been leading this faction for the last hundred years. "

Not able to talk just yet, the assassin decided instead to give his elder a tired and frustrated look.

"Ah, I understand that you might not have heard of us. Our name does not have the same impact as it once did when I was around your age. Trust me though, that will change in due time."

"Geh…Efff…Meh," the Brotherhood member managed to grumble out as the paralyze spell began to weaken as he shot the she-elf sitting on him a deadly look.

"What was that dear? You want me to get off?" Dinya snickered before leaning down to nibble on the elf's ear. "Make me." This caused the archer to cringe in disgust and weakly throw his head back in an attempt to inflict some kind of pain on the girl, she easily avoided the attack.

"Dinya, behave yourself," Othrelos sighed with a shake of his head before returning his gaze to the archer. "Before the Dark Brotherhood existed, there was the Morag Tong. We were based in Morrowind and played a part in many a ruler's execution." A wicked grin crept up the Dunmer's face.

"You think Emperor Mede was an amazing feat? We have ended the lives of countless rulers and royalty. Unlike your Brotherhood's sloppy slaying, ours was quite legitimate. See, we had the power to enforce executions, so everything was legal. None of this pathetic hiding in the shadows nonsense."

"Get to the point," Vytalas hissed out bitterly.

"Ah, you got your voice back," remarked the Dunmer. "I understand that this is quite a demeaning position you are in. We will make up for it, if you decide to accept our generous offer. I suppose I should just be blunt with you. Those soldiers will be coming down here soon to look for you, and that wouldn't be good for either of us." Othrelos expression darkened.

"What I am telling you, young Mer, is that we are bringing the age of the Dark Brotherhood to an end. No more illegal throat slitting and murdering for anyone who has a bit of spare coin to spend. The Morag Tong is taking back its rightful place as the true assassin's guild in Tamriel and that means getting rid of the followers of Sithis. As you can see, we are well on our way making all the factions eager to spill your blood."

A realization hit Vytalas that it was not the increase in guards or a botched job that caused the mob to go after him and Kaie. The archer's red eyes burned with fury as he stared up at the Morag Tong leader. "You were the ones who caused the Imperials to attack us."

"We could have worked unseen, but then how could the Brotherhood be blamed for those deaths?" the Dark Elf explained with a shrug. "We did want you alive, however. Call it a weak sense of patriotism, but I'd hate to see a talented Dunmer such as you get eliminated with the rest of those criminals."

"They are not criminals; they are my brothers and sisters," Vytalas answered in a threatening tone. "This attempt to rid yourself of the Dark Brotherhood will not be as simple as you think." The archer snickered sinisterly as he sneered up at the Morag Tong. "We have spread far and wide. If you challenge us, you will fall and be sent to the vengeful hands of Sithis."

"Same old bravado," Dinya sighed as she twirled her fingers in the archer's hair.

"Get off me, you harlot!" the assassin snarled furiously, having had more than enough of her disrespectful and revolting behavior. The Dark Elf tried to buck the woman off his back, but the archer's struggling ceased as his hair was grasped painfully in the female's tight fists.

"I'd learn to behave if I were you," she growled, now losing her flirtatious tone. "You're cute, but I can only put up with so much nonsense."

"Would you leave the poor Mer be for a moment, Dinya?" Othrelos muttered with a shake of his head. Begrudgingly, the she-elf released her grip on the assassin's hair.

"My boy," Othrelos sighed, as though tired of the game, "what is your name?"

"I am a son of Sithis, that is all you need to know," he answered proudly. "If you are going to kill me, just go ahead and do it already! Spare me the history lesson of your dead guild!"

"Have you not been listening to a word I've been saying?" the elder Dunmer growled in frustration. "I don't want to kill you! I want you to join us! Join the Morag Tong!"

"Oh, by Sithis," the archer hissed through gritted teeth as he glared up at his elder. "I am a member of the Dark Brotherhood! Now and forever! End me now if you must, I don't fear death!"

"I can see that," Othrelos answered coolly as he nodded in understanding. "No, one cannot be the bringer of death if he fears it. I had hoped that you would embrace your heritage and bring your archery skills to the true guild of assassins. Are you sure you wish to remain with the dying Brotherhood?"

"We're not the ones whose names dust the pages of forgotten tomes," Vytalas remarked angrily. "You can kill me today, but you can be damn sure that my family will make you pay dearly for it."

"Despite your refusal, I am not yet willing to give up on you, boy," Othrelos said much calmer than Vytalas would have expected. "I am going to give you some time to think over my offer, as well as deliver a message to your Listener." He roughly patted the assassin on his head so that he had his full undivided attention. "Tell him to meet me on the next full moons by the old Falkreath sanctuary. He can bring a follower with him if he so chooses, but I do wish to have words with this Argonian."

"I'm not a hawk!" the Dark Elf barked fiercely. "If you wish to speak to him, then seek him out yourself!" A wicked smile crept up the archer's mouth. "I promise you it will be the last words you speak."

"I am sad that you have such confidence in the weak. You will deliver my message, whether you want to or not." He then let out a miserable sigh and shook his head. This concerned Vytalas as he seemed to be legitimately upset over whatever was to happen next. "I wish you had decided to join us now. I wish that you were willing to see the futility of the Dark Brotherhood's plight. You, however, left me no other choice." He placed a sympathetic hand on Vytalas' shoulder which only made the Dunmer more nervous. "Forgive us for what we are about to do."

"What are you planning on doing?" the archer hissed. "You've made it quite clear you aren't going to kill me."

"You'll wish we had," Othrelos answered solemnly. "You may not deliver my message using your words, Mer, but it will be quite clear to your leader as soon as he lays eyes upon you." Leaving it at that, the older Dark Elf stood up and looked over at the she-elf. "Do it."

The assassin grunted as his hair was grabbed and he felt his head get forced down onto its side.

"What are you doing?!" The red eyes of the Brotherhood member widened in horror when he saw a long and deadly dagger held before his eyes.

"Don't worry sweetie," Dinya purred with a sinister look in her eyes. "This will only hurt….a lot."


	5. The Message

Lucien, Nazir and the Keeper surrounded the Brotherhood leader, all concerned about the recent events.

"Listener! Cicero has never heard of such a thing! Such mockery and lies!"

The Fool of Hearts could not take his eyes off his friend as the Argonian sat on the floor, facing the Night Mother's tomb. He had just finished relating the grim details of Tullius' report and Whiterun to the assassins and tensions were high.

KaNack's eyes were bloodshot and his body looked drained of all energy as he remained settled on the cold stone floor. With the death of one of the Companions, a guild was now on a blood hunt for the Brotherhood, and based on Vilkas' slight transformation in Whiterun, the mage could tell that the faction was more than just simple mercenaries.

"There is a person or persons framing the Dark Brotherhood for the reckless killings, my friend," the Listener said softly as he allowed his head to rest against the wall. "The Companions have already declared war on us." The reptile turned to look at the Spectral Assassin. "I fear for my family, Lucien. I think I should send out hawks alerting them all to return to their sanctuaries."

"Telling the Brotherhood to hide like children is not the most practical of ideas, Listener," Lachance answered as he crossed his arms.

"You saw Vilkas change!" the Argonian growled. "His eyes glowed like candles and his teeth were like those of an ice wolf! What if the other Companions are like him? That's a guild of monsters! The brothers and sisters must be warned!"

"By now almost all of the Dark Brotherhood assassins in Skyrim will have been spread out and completing their contracts," Nazir insisted. "Sending a sanctuary's hawk now would be pointless! There won't be anyone there to receive it."

KaNack growled as he tugged at the red feathers on his head. "If only we had some way of knowing where the next strike was going to be! There is no rhyme or reason to the list of victims!"

"Oh, poor Listener," the Keeper whimpered as he took a seat next to the reptile and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Cicero wishes there was something he could do."

"What is worse, I cannot possibly return to Whiterun to gather information for Tullius," grumbled the Dark Brotherhood leader. "Vilkas and his barbarian friends would more than likely attack me on sight."

"Cicero will go with you!" the jester snapped as he pulled out his ebony blade. "Cicero will protect the Listener!"

The fool's wrist was gently gripped by the Argonian and slowly lowered. "No, Cicero! Your place is here in the safety of Dawnstar with the Night Mother. You are too important to risk getting hurt or killed."

"As much as I'd hate to say this," the Redguard stated as he approached the Listener, "you might have to wait for this copycat to claim a few more victims before you can gather an idea of how he chooses his targets."

"The Brotherhood is further damned with every death!" the mage uttered darkly as he rose to his feet. "I am not going to just sit on my ass and do nothing!" KaNack turned to the Spectral Assassin. "Lucien, we should head to Riften and speak to Brynjolf. The Thieves Guild might have heard something that could aid us. They always seem to know what is happening in the undergrounds of Skyrim."

"That might not be a bad idea," Lachance answered with a nod. "If nothing else, we can alert the faction of this imposter and have another set of eyes searching for him."

"Oh, the sneaky, sneaky thieves," muttered Cicero as he scowled up at the Listener. "Cicero does not like them, and they do not like Cicero."

"What did you expect? You basically insulted them the first time you came to the Ratway!" the Listener replied to the jester smirking. "They don't tend to forget things like that."

The Argonian started down the stairs, his faithful brothers trailing close behind him. "Nazir, I don't care if you think it will be pointless. Send out the hawks and tell our brothers and sisters to remain in their sanctuaries and to alert those who must leave to avoid wearing the uniforms of the Brotherhood. Those Companions make me nervous and I don't want to take any chances."

KaNack spun around, causing the group behind him to bump into each other from the sudden stop. The mage's white eyes were wide with determination. "I helped construct all of the Skyrim sanctuaries and consider each and every assassin within them one of my own! No one in my family is going to die for a crime they did not commit! Understood?"

"I can only do my best," the Redguard answered patiently.

KaNack let out an exhausted sigh and then continued his pace to the main chamber. "Lachance and I will ride to Riften and speak with the Thieves Guild. If we are lucky, we might run into Dro on the way there. He did have a contract in that dismal city."

"Nazir! Cicero!"

The shrill feminine voice pierced all of the brothers' ears. From one of the tunnels, Kaie came running, the wound in her shoulder expertly wrapped. She came to a halt when she saw that the Argonian was there as well. "KaNack! You're here!"

"By Sithis!" the mage snapped as he saw the bandage. "What happened to you?!"

The Breton flew into the Argonian's arms and wrapped her arms around him tightly as she began to sob. KaNack instinctively returned the embrace and shushed her gently as he rubbed her back. Over the years, he saw the young assassins as his own adoptive children, despite their ages not being too far apart. It was only natural for him to want to comfort the crying assassin.

"It's alright, you're safe now," he assured her quietly.

"KaNack," she cried softly, her voice slightly muffled from leaning her face into his shrouded robes. "Vytalas…" She managed to pull herself away and struggled to get the words out. "I don't know what happened! He wouldn't tell me! He almost didn't come back! I told him I wouldn't return without him! I've never seen him like this before!"

The mage motioned for her to calm down and shushed her. "Kaie, I need you to relax," he insisted patiently. "Where is Vytalas now?"

"The stables," she answered. "He wouldn't come out here. I'm afraid he might try to leave!"

The mage breathed deeply and gently placed a hand on the Breton's good shoulder. "Let me heal your shoulder first, that needs to be tended to."

"What if Vy leaves?!" she exclaimed backing away from her leader. "Please! Go to him now! I can be healed later, but if he runs I don't think we'll ever find him again!"

"Okay, I'll go tend to Vytalas," the Argonian said before pointing to a tunnel that led to the residential chambers. "You go to my chambers and take whatever potions you need to try and ease the pain. I will be there to tend to you shortly."

The young assassin nodded before hurrying off into a tunnel. The reptile's eyes looked after her in concern and he turned to Nazir. "Keep an eye on her."

Quickening his pace to a light sprint, the Listener started down the passageway that led to the sanctuary's stables. Lucien trailed behind his caster, leaving a faint trail of blue mist behind him. They were to leave for Riften anyway, so he figured he might as well accompany the Listener.

KaNack had never seen Kaie as upset as she had been, and the injury she had received concerned him greatly. He wished that Babette or Shaleez had been there to tend to it, but his sister was adamant on him confronting the Dunmer. Vytalas had always been so strong and proud; he could not even begin to think what might have caused the change in his archer.

Upon entering the stables, the first thing the mage noticed was a horse standing just outside its stall. It was a charcoal gray mare he recognized as Vytalas', and she looked as though she had been prepared for a very long journey. Her side saddles had been obviously filled and she pawed at the ground restlessly. Standing before the horse was Shadowmere. The Demonic mare snorted angrily and looked rather frustrated.

"Vy?" the Brotherhood leader called out as he started further into the stables, passing by the many strong stallions and mares that filled the stalls. He received no response, but was fairly sure that the Dark Elf was still somewhere in the chamber.

"It seems Shadowmere kept your assassin from fleeing," Lachance remarked as he peered into every stall, looking for the Dunmer. "He might have already been gone had she not been here to stop him."

The reptile patted the flank of the gray mare and looked into the glowing eyes of his valiant steed. "Where is he hiding, Shadowmere?" he asked gently.

The black mare nickered gently and turned her head to look at an empty stall near the back where fresh piles of hay were kept. Greatly concerned for his brother, the Listener continued to keep a steady pace as he passed the horses and approached the stall.

Peering around the corner, he finally found his missing brother. Vytalas had his back to him and had tried to tuck himself as far as he could into the corner of the stall. The black hood of his cloak had been pulled as far as possible over his head, further hiding his face. The Dunmer was trying to conceal it, but the Argonian could see that the archer was trembling. The Listener could not tell if it was due to fear, pain or anger.

"It might have been more effective if you actually covered yourself with the hay, Vy," KaNack said quietly as he kept his distance.

"Go away," the elf hissed bitterly, "and get that stupid horse of yours to move."

"She can understand you, Vytalas," KaNack chuckled as he leaned against the stall. "She is not above giving you a swift hoof to the rear end for insulting her." The mage frowned as his brother still refused to look at him. "Kaie is worried about you, Vy. She thinks you're going to leave."

"As soon as that demon steed moves, she'll be right," the Dark Elf growled. He sighed and shook his head. "I don't deserve to be here, I only came back because it was the only way to get Kaie to return to Dawnstar. Please, just let me leave in peace."

"One does not just simply LEAVE the Brotherhood, Vytalas," the Argonian answered with a slight growl. "Look me in the eyes and tell me why you want to abandon your family."

"I failed you," Vytalas growled as he hugged himself still keeping his back to the assassins. "I failed myself. All I want is to leave with some shred of dignity."

"Did you not complete your contract?" asked the reptile.

"No," hissed the elf.

"Did Kaie die under your watch?"

"No!" The Dunmer was now starting to sound aggravated.

"Then you have not failed me. Get up and return to the sanctuary with the others. I want you and Kaie to tell me what happened to the both of you in Solitude."

The Dark Elf rose from the hay and spun around furiously to the mage. The hood was pulled so far over that all KaNack could see was the bottom half of the archer's face.

"Kaie can give you all the glorious details! Now get out of my way!" he snarled furiously.

KaNack's hands lit up in flames as he glared furiously at the younger assassin. "Don't you dare speak to me in such a tone, Vytalas," he threatened darkly. "You may be my brother, but I am still your leader and you will address me as such."

"Listener," Lucien started softly, grabbing the mage's attention, "perhaps I can convince him?"

Letting out a frustrated growl, the flames extinguished from the mage's hands. "Be my guest," rumbled the Black Hand member as he extended an arm to the Dark Elf.

Lucien understood that perhaps Vytalas saw the Listener too much as a friend and therefore an equal, so he was more inclined to act out upon the Argonian. However, the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood had always remained a strict and fiercely respected resident in the sanctuary and few were brave enough to so much as raise their voices at him. Lachance was fairly sure that he would manage to keep the archer's temper under control.

Vytalas turned his head away as the specter approached him.

"Lachance," the elf quietly greeted the ghost in respect.

"I did not spend the last six years training you with that bow of yours just to have you leave the Dark Brotherhood, Vytalas," the specter said in a deep but steady voice. "You say you must leave because you failed. How have you failed yourself?"

The Dunmer let out a hiss and leaned forward so that only his teacher would be able to hear him. "I allowed myself to be captured," he whispered.

"They must not have been very efficient, seeing as you are standing here now," Lucien insisted gently.

"You don't understand, Lachance," he groaned. "What they did…They…" The Dark Elf turned around and now there was no hiding the fact that he was trembling.

"Vytalas," the spirit said grimly, "you are starting to worry me."

Defeated, the archer turned back so that he was facing both Lucien and the Argonian. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he slowly reached up to grab the hood of his shroud. Then in one swift motion, pulled it back and revealed the horror to his superiors.

"By Sithis!" KaNack snarled in both disgust and fury.

Lachance's eyes could only widen in mortification at the sight before him. Where Vytalas' right ear had been, was now replaced with a bloody bandage. The elf's head dropped shamefully as his whole body began to shake.

"Vytalas," the spirit started, not knowing what to say. For an elf to lose an ear, one might as well have removed a hand or a leg. There was no greater disgrace in the culture of the Mers. "Who did this to you?"

"Fellow Dunmer, if you can believe it," the archer whispered as he pulled the hood back over his head, humiliated and broken. "They set me and Kaie up in Solitude to take the blame for their murders."

"There's been murder in Solitude?" KaNack asked as his whole body tensed. There had to be more than one copycat then, for no one could have traveled between Solitude and Whiterun that quickly between deaths.

"Listener, let him speak," Lachance insisted as he motioned for the Argonian to stay quiet. He knew that the mage wanted answers, but the Dunmer was fragile at the moment, and it was vital that he be treated with the utmost care. "Please, Vytalas," he said gently as he rested a hand on his shoulder, "continue."

"Kaie and I separated, but we both managed to get away from the Imperial guards. I had barely recovered from my escape before one of those Dunmer shot me with a paralysis spell. They bound me, humiliated me, and tried to get me to join their guild." The Dark Elf's teeth gritted together in fury as he thought about that horrible night. "They called themselves the Morag Tong."

This name had absolutely no impact on KaNack, but Lachance tensed up and his lips thinned. A tremor of rage rushed through the spirit's body. He had heard of this damned faction, but he would have to hold his tongue until the archer finished giving him all the details.

"I refused, Lucien," the Mer hissed, "I refused, KaNack. I would not betray the Brotherhood! I told them to go ahead and kill me!" Vytalas' hands clenched into fists as emotion started to get the best of him. He always had been so full of pride, but now seemed a shell of his former self.

"By Sithis, I would not have minded death. At least I would have gone to the Void with honor. Instead, they wanted to keep me alive. They wanted a living messenger to return to the Listener. To make sure that you took them seriously though, they…" the elf's shoulders slumped as his head lowered ever further, "they did this."

The Dunmer rested a hand on the hood where his ear would have been. "They dragged me off afterwards. They didn't want Tullius' soldiers to find me. Then they paralyzed me again, cut me loose, and just left me there."

The archer's body trembled and his eyes narrowed in fury. "I tried to find them," he choked out. "I tried to track them down! I wanted to kill them! I wanted to rip them limb from limb! They seemed to vanish without a trace!" Finally, the archer collapsed into a heap on the hay below him. "Why?! Why couldn't they have just killed me?! Why did they have to humiliate me like this?!"

"Vytalas," KaNack started softly. Since the Dunmer had first shown up at the Black Door, he had been nothing but proud, strong and diligent. Seeing his friend broken and in tears struck the Listener hard, and slowly that sorrow began to turn to rage.

Lachance lowered to a knee and rested a comforting hand on the Dark Elf's compassionately. The pain of having an ear cut off was nothing compared to Vytalas' agony of losing respect for himself. The Dunmer released a shaky breath before he continued.

"The message….the Morag Tong wanted me to deliver this message to you, KaNack," the archer managed to get out, as he voice began to break. "On the next full moons, their leader is to meet with you by the Falkreath sanctuary, and he insisted you bring a brother with you."

"THAT will be his fatal mistake," the Argonian snarled viciously as his fists began to smoke. He was furious that someone would dare to do this to one of his beloved family members. "Not only has the Brotherhood imposter revealed himself, but has given away his location. He will suffer the wrath of Sithis!"

"It's more than that," Lucien insisted as he remained by his pupil's side. The ghost's eyes narrowed in fury. "It's the Morag Tong."

"You say that name as though it should mean anything to me, Lucien!"

"Will you be quiet and listen to me?!" the ghost barked at him angrily. "This is not some mere guild of cutthroats! These are an ancient and powerful group of assassins! One that is even older than the Dark Brotherhood itself!" The ghost remained by the young archer's side, but kept his deathly stare with the Argonian.

"In my time, the Morag Tong kept their business strictly confined within in the country of Morrowind; but my friend Vincente told me that the guild had once been spread all about Tamriel. When it started to fail, it is believed that was when the Dark Brotherhood began to rise."

"What are you saying?" the reptile growled.

"I am saying that if this is in fact the Morag Tong, these are very dangerous individuals. Listener, they could kill people, noted people, in broad daylight! Witnesses and all! They killed under the guise of written executions. They had no fear, no remorse, not a care of what they did or who saw it!"

"If this faction is as deadly as you are making it out to be, how come I've never heard of this Morag Tong?"

"After the Argonian Invasion during the Third Era, the Morag Tong had supposedly disbanded. Over the years, their history vanished along with their name. I never thought that they would rise up again, let alone in Skyrim!"

"Well," the mage uttered darkly as he started to make his way over to Shadowmere. "I think it's time for the Morag Tong to die once again. I will personally see to it that the only time their name crosses people's lips is when they are referred to as the real mindless killers!" He gently took a hold of his mare's reigns as his eyes burned with anger. "How soon is it to the full moons, Lucien?"

"Two days, Listener."

"Good, we will ride out to Falkreath tonight and wait for those cowards to show their faces. Then we will have retribution." He pulled himself up and onto the demonic steed's saddle. "I will clear the Dark Brotherhood's name and end these pathetic excuses for Dunmer in one fell swoop!" He rode his horse over to the stall and looked in at Vytalas and his spirit. "This guild will wish that they had remained dead. Vytalas, I will see to it that they pay tenfold for what they have done to you!"

"Listener," the Dark Elf groaned as he looked up at his leader with sad red eyes. "Their leader is a mage as well and he cannot be taken lightly. He has made it clear that he is at least a hundred years in age."

"I don't care if he has five hundred years experience on me!" the Black Hand member snarled. "He will not get away with this insult! This man has disrespected you and sullied the name of the Dark Brotherhood! He will pay for it with his blood!"

Lachance sighed as he shook his head in frustration. It seems his caster still had the tendency to allow his emotions get the better of him.

"If we go, Listener, you must be sure to remain calm. If you act on impulse, it could mean your end. After all, these are people who are dead set on destroying the Dark Brotherhood." The spirit knew better than to underestimate the threat of the Morag Tong. Both he and the Argonian would have to be on their guards, less this was not a meeting between leaders, but a trap. The ghost looked back at the Dark Elf who was starting to calm down slightly.

"Vytalas, I am going to need you to return to the sanctuary and stay there until we get back. Promise me you will remain here," Lucien said in a stern voice.

"I'll stay," the elf groaned, "you have already witnessed my shame, I have no reason for leaving anymore."

"I understand that what they did was more than just take your ear," the ghost stated as he pulled the Dark Elf to his feet, "but you cannot allow these wretched people to break your spirit. You're stronger than that; prove to them that they cannot take your pride from you."

"Lucien!" the reptile called out, wanting nothing more than to race to Falkreath. Arriving early would give them the advantage during the meeting with the Morag Tong. KaNack was boiling with range and thought of nothing better than showering the ground of Falkreath with the imposter's blood.

The spirit hurried over to his caster and promptly was pulled up onto the back of Shadowmere's saddle. The ghost turned to glance at Vytalas one last time to make sure that the Mer did not intend on leaving. The Dunmer still looked miserable, but he was already walking in the direction back to the main chamber, so it was likely that he did not plan on running…at least not just yet.

"Farragut!"


	6. Declaration of War

The Listener and Lucien had arrived at the sanctuary with more than a day to spare. It was under the comforting twilight of night that they found themselves in front of the old haven they had once considered a home. It had more than a decade since KaNack had buried Festus Krex, his friend and mentor, by the black pool of the Falkreath sanctuary, and he still missed him. KaNack stared down at the grave that had Nightshade flowers blooming in great numbers.

"Hey, Festus," the Listener greeted the grave sadly as he took a seat before it. "I'm about to kill the infamous Morag Tong. How have you been keeping yourself busy?" The mage pulled back his hood so that he could run his claws through his feathered hair. "I really wish you were here, the Brotherhood just isn't the same without you."

A gentle breeze rustled the Argonian's feathers and brushed a number of leaves over Krex's burial site.

"I'm not whining," he answered bitterly.

Lachance allowed Shadowmere to wander off to graze and then made his way over to stand behind his mourning caster. It pleased him to no end that Nightshade had grown from Krex's plot. It seemed no matter where a brother was buried; the flowers always grew from the earth as though by unseen forces.

"How is Festus doing in the Void?" KaNack asked his spirit quietly as he turned to look up at the ghost. "I really should ask more often."

"Oh, you would hardly recognize him now, Listener," the spirit chuckled. "He is young, and actually has hair."

This caused the reptile to laugh as he looked back at the grave longingly. "I was under the impression that Festus had always been bald." The reptile sighed heavily. Being back at the Falkreath sanctuary brought back too many memories, both good and bad. "By Sithis, I miss him."

The spirit of Lachance reared his hand back and playfully smacked the side of the Argonian's head. The Black Hand leader only grumbled as he rubbed at the impacted site. The ghost had meant well, but it was not enough to bring the mage out of his depression.

"Thanks, it's not the same though, Buddy," the mage remarked sadly. KaNack gently pulled away some dead leaves that had gathered around the grave, and his heart sank as he continued to think about his mentor. The Listener did his damnedest to hold back his tears. "I would give anything to at least have had the opportunity to say goodbye."

"You will see him again, child," Lucien said in a comforting voice. He got down to a knee so that he was settled next his caster. "There is never truly such a thing as 'goodbye' in the world of the Dark Brotherhood." He smiled at the Argonian. "Vincente may no longer reside in this world, but he and I still see each other in the Void."

"There is no happiness in the Void," KaNack remarked bitterly. "Can you really enjoy a fallen brother's company once reunited?"

"Yes, there is no happiness," agreed the spirit, "but there is no sorrow either. That is almost as good."

"Festus Krex was one of the most ornery human beings I had ever come across in all my years of travel," the mage stated, "but he was, and always will be in my opinion, the greatest wizard to have existed."

"Oh, how touching," a scratchy voice uttered from behind them.

KaNack quickly rose to his feet and spun around as Lucien drew his blade. Standing just on the path leading to the sanctuary were two Dunmers, a male and female.

Both of the elves were shrouded in enchanted black and dark red robes, and a glass shortsword glittered from its sheath on the man's belt. The female was nothing like the mage's Brelyna. The twisted smile on her face robbed her of any beauty that might have been there. The man seemed to appear disinterested as he stroked at the black tuft of a beard on his chin. The wrinkles and light scars on his face clued KaNack in that this particular Dark Elf had seen his fair share of battle.

"You're early," the male elf remarked as he crossed his arms. "I like that. You don't like to waste any time, do you?"

"Are you the one who cut off my brother's ear?" the Argonian hissed viciously as he pointed a claw at the Morag Tong leader.

The elf lost all amusement on his face and huffed sadly. "Thankfully, I did not have to do that dirty work myself. I did not enjoy having to mutilate one of my own to get your attention."

"You should have heard him scream, Argonian. It rattled my very eardrums," the female snickered as she pulled a long slender daedric dagger from her cloak and ran the blade along her tongue. "He was so brave until my blade touched his ear."

An animal-like snarl sounded from the mage's throat as flames sprouted from his hands. "I will do far worse than cut off one of your ears, she-devil!"

"Please! Too much violence has occurred already," the male insisted with a shrug. "Can we skip the part where you pelt us with petty threats and let's just get introductions out of the way?" A smirk crossed over his dark lips as his red eyes beamed with arrogance.

"I am Othrelos, leader of the Morag Tong." He gestured to the woman standing beside him. "This is Dinya, my daughter and second in command. She may not look dangerous, but I assure you; many have fallen to her blade and bow." He politely extended a hand out to the Argonian. "And you are?"

"Know my name, cutthroat, for it should strike fear in your black heart. I am KaNack, Listener and Leader of the Black Hand and Dark Brotherhood."

The Dark Elf seemed unimpressed with the reptile's introduction and his eyes scanned over to the blue spirit next to the Argonian. "You brought a conjuration instead of a brother? What an interesting decision on your part. "

"He is a member of the Dark Brotherhood," KaNack growled angrily. "One of our most trusted and faithful members. He represents the guild as a whole."

"Lucien Lachance," the ghost proudly said as he bowed, still brandishing his blade. "Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood."

"Oh, how cute," Dinya snickered in amusement. "Your pet can talk. Does he know how to shake and roll over as well?"

KaNack's lip curled up in a snarl at the Dark Elf's disrespectful approach to the Spectral Assassin. Lucien said nothing, but the grip on his dagger's hilt tightened. If there was one title that would rile his anger, it was being referred to as the Listener's 'Pet'.

"He does have an amusing trick in which he turns a person's esophagus into a rather handsome belt," the mage answered stiffly as he shot the Dunmer a dangerous look. "Would you like him to demonstrate?"

"I'm getting bored, Father," Dinya complained as she tossed her blade from hand to hand. "Are we going to kill them or just talk?"

"Well, that all depends on them, my dear," the Morag Tong leader said simply as he smiled wickedly at the Listener. "How about it, Argonian? It might be in your best interest to hear what I have to say."

"Speak quickly, you pointy eared wretch," replied the reptile nastily.

"Well," scoffed Othrelos as he narrowed his red eyes, "that was uncalled for and rather rude."

"Your bitch CUT off my brother's ear!" KaNack screamed at him furiously. "Speak while I am still giving you the opportunity!"

"If you insist." The Morag Tong leader took a step forward and held his head up proudly. "I am going to give you a chance to keep your life, if you are willing to cooperate with me," he stated firmly. "Disband the Dark Brotherhood. Destroy the Night Mother's corpse. Empty out your sanctuaries and find a new way in which to keep yourself busy. Do this, and I will allow you and your little family members to continue their feeble existence."

As the Dunmer listed his reprehensible demands, KaNack's inner fire began to burn hotter and hotter until smoke began to waft from his clenched fists. "You have framed the Brotherhood for your reckless killings! You mutilated a member of my family! Your very existence is an affront to Sithis and the Night Mother! I will see to it that your guild perishes, and with your deaths I will clear the name of the Dark Brotherhood!

The Argonian's threat only caused the elves to begin laughing in disbelief. "Simple little lizard!" the Morag Tong leader said in amusement. "Do you honestly think either you or your spirit intimidate me?!"

"Lucien, I think I need a new belt," the mage muttered as he turned to scowl at the Speaker.

"Boy, don't try my patience!" Othrelos spat at the Listener bitterly. "I have been practicing magic for the last two and a half centuries. The only reason you're still alive now is because I am allowing you to remain so." The Dunmer scoffed as he shook his head dismissively. "Do you think just because a woman speaks to you from beyond the grave you have been granted powers greater than myself?"

"I have more than just the power of Sithis residing within me, Mer," the reptile answered stiffly as his hands starting to burn with flames.

"It will take more than a handful of years training with a senile old warlock to impress me," snorted the Dark Elf.

"How dare you!" KaNack roared as the fire grew larger in his anger. "Festus Krex was a hundred times the spell caster you could ever HOPE to be!"

"Is that the dead body you were pining over earlier?" Dinya asked. She then hurled her blade forward and the weapon sunk into the plot of earth. "Hmm, doesn't seem that impressive if you ask me."

Lucien had to grab a hold of the Listener and hold him back as he went to lunge at the horrible woman. The spirit knew that the Dunmer was trying to enrage KaNack to the point where his judgment would cloud and leave him open to make a fatal mistake. He wasn't about to let the Morag Tong win that easily.

"I know she disrespected Festus," Lachance whispered to the struggling assassin. "I know you wish to strike her down. You cannot allow yourself to fall victim to her desires."

"I will see you dead, Dunmer!" KaNack screamed furiously as he positioned his hands into a casting position, despite the fact his spirit has his arms wrapped around his waist. Othrelos could only chuckle, entertained by how easily his child got under the Dark Brotherhood leader's skin.

"Aww, let him go, spirit! He wants to play, and I am more than willing to do anything to alleviate my boredom," Dinya purred as she beckoned KaNack forward with a curled finger.

"Listener, don't let her get to you!" the spirit cried as he tried to pull his caster away from the elves' direction.

A bolt of white fire charged up between the mage's palms and then shot forward aimed in the she-elf's direction. Othrelos threw himself in front of his accomplish and hissed as he threw up an arm to shield his eyes from the reptile's spell.

Once the flames settled, he slowly retracted his arm. KaNack was terrified to see an evil smile plastered on the Mer's face. The older Dunmer began to chuckling sinisterly as he shook his head at the two assassins. This caused Lachance to stiffen and his grip tightened on the Argonian. Clearly this Dark Elf wizard was in a league that neither of them had prepared for. It would only be a matter of time before the ancient wizard started to show his true power, and destroy them both.

"Fire?!" the Morag Tong leader exclaimed in amusement. "Do you not know the first thing about our race? You might as well have thrown a sweet roll in our general direction!"

KaNack growled in frustration that his attack did nothing more than give the Morag Tong leader even more reason to ridicule him. He once again position himself to cast, but was pulled back and his spiritual guide stood before him. Lucien grasped the mage firmly by his shoulders as he gave him an alarmed look

"Stop," he hissed at KaNack. "This isn't a fight we are prepared for."

"He made the first move," Dinya stated happily as she purred as she retracted her daedric bow from her back and grabbed an ebony arrow from its quiver. "Now it's time to have some real fun." She snickered darkly as she took aim. "I bet I can hit his ghost right between the eyes, even with his back turned to me."

"Oh, please!" the older elf snorted as he pulled her bow down to ruin the shot. "As though I would consider THAT a first move! That was nothing but a childish tantrum!"

"Listener," the Spectral Assassin whispered desperately as he tightened his grasp on the frazzled Argonian's shoulders. "The elf is right; he's too powerful for us to face without a proper strategy. We must leave before he decides to attack."

"Too powerful?" the Argonian uttered as he glowered at the Dunmer before him. "We'll see about that."

"Do not fight him," the ghost insisted fiercely. "He WILL kill you."

"Stop wasting my time and give me a definitive answer!" Othrelos demanded as he pointed a thin gray finger at the Dark Brotherhood leader. "Will you bring your pathetic guild to an end, or do I have to do it for you?"

"I only have three words for you, Othrelos," KaNack replied as he pushed Lachance to the side and got into a stance where his legs were braced.

"Listener!" Lachance barked knowing exactly what his caster was planning.

"I do hope it's 'I give up'" Dinya sighed as she tapped her arrow against her hip.

The mage sucked in a deep breath. "GAAN LAH HAAS!"

The two members of the Morag Tong stumbled backwards from the force of the Shout. KaNack got a feeling of satisfaction seeing the look of utter shock and fury in the Dark Elves' eyes.

"What in Oblivion did you do?!" Orthrelos snarled as he felt considerably weaker in both his strength and magicka. Dinya growled as she tried to aim her bow, but her hands trembled, seeming to lack the stamina to properly pull back an arrow. It was as though all of her energy had been ripped from her body.

"I announced my declaration of war," the reptile answered darkly as his hand glowed a vibrant blue. Hurling the ball of energy to the earth, a large storm atronach arose from it. "Kill them, Strunner!"

The atronach charged at the staggering opponents and a charge of electric shot forth, sending both Morag Tong members flying back.

"Listener! We must go! NOW!" Lucien exclaimed as he grabbed at the mage's shoulder seeing this as a perfect opportunity to slip away and regroup with the family. The spirit released a piercing whistle to call Shadowmere forth.

"What are you talking about? They are at our mercy!" the reptile retorted as he pulled loose from the ghost and raced forward to join his atronach as a volt of chain lightning began to charge between his hands.

"You fool! You're going to get yourself killed!" the spirit screamed. Shadowmere nickered loudly as she moved to join the fight. "No, Shadowmere!" The Speaker grabbed her by the reigns to get the horse's attention. "This is beyond our abilities!"

Standing alongside his atronach, the infuriated mage let loose his signature killing move, chain lightning, directly into Othrelos' chest. He didn't want to waste any more time before sending the Morag Tong to the Void.

The reptile expression dropped and he gawked in disbelief when Othrelos did not die, but rather stared up at the mage with wide and murderous red eyes.

"Impossible," the assassin whispered under his breath. This was not the look of one who seemed to on the brink of death. The Dark Elf's palm shot forward and an inferno of fire erupted from it sending KaNack flying back and his atronach to disintegrating to ash in the fury of the fire storm casting.

Crashing hard to the earth, the Black Hand leader could hardly move from the searing pain of his burns. He twitched involuntarily as he could still feel the heat of the Dunmer's flames burning through his scales. He had no time to prepare a ward; he had been so sure that between his Shout and storm atronach Othrelos' magicka would have been weakened to the point where he could easily have been disposed of. Instead he had only momentarily stunned the Morag Tong mage.

KaNack shrieked in pain as he felt a hand grab his arm, and the agony of the burns became ever more excruciating.

"Imbecile!" the Speaker snarled viciously before Shadowmere took off, and the Listener was dragged along rather unceremoniously beside her. The Argonian's screams echoed through the forest as Orthrelos rose to his feet, his teeth bared in anger.

The mage had caught him off guard and struck him with a rather cheap shot. It had not taken long for his magicka to return to its full strength, and he had shown just how powerful his capabilities in destructive magic truly were. It was most fortunate for the Listener that his storm atronach had taken the brunt of the spell.

"You desire war?!" he bellowed after them. "You shall have it!"

Lucien pushed the demonic steed to run faster, almost blind to the frantic and screaming reptile he had clasped in a vise like grip. It was not until he was clear of the Pine Forest that the Speaker felt it was safe to finally bring the mare to a stop. Releasing the Black Hand leader's arm, the spirit growled in frustration as he pulled back his hood so he could grab at his hair in tight fists.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," the ghost muttered repeatedly under his breath, his fists clenching tighter with every utterance of the word. He leaned over to glower down at the battered reptile. "What in Oblivion were you thinking back there?!"

"That Othrelos isn't the only one trying to kill me?" KaNack managed to answer as he weakly tried to charge up a healing spell in one of his hands.

"I should kill you! What you did back there was borderline suicide!" Lachance shouted as he dismounted Shadowmere and knelt so that the Listener could see just how angry he was. "What gave you the notion that you could kill an ancient master wizard like that so easily?!"

"Buddy, could you stop screaming at me for five minutes, please?" The mage sighed with relief when his hand started to glow a weak golden color.

"Don't you call me, Buddy! I'm furious with you!"

"I gathered."

"By Sithis! Sometimes I just want to throttle your neck! I told you to not fight! You struck! I told you to run! You ran right at them!"

"I underestimated that wizard's abilities, and I paid for it as you can clearly see," the mage answered simply as he cast a healing spell over his body that was almost completely covered in burns. "I thought I could keep his magicka weakened for much longer."

The ghost smacked the Argonian hard in the shoulder which brought forth another surge of horrid pain.

"Lucien!" he snarled angrily as he swung at the spirit to make him back away less the specter wanted to inflict another infuriating strike. "Calm yourself, or I'll send you back to the Void in a most unorthodox manner!"

Lachance began to pace furiously, as was his way when he tried to lessen his anger. KaNack sighed gruffly as he continued to heal his abrasions.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" the mage said, trying to bury the hatchet between him and his spiritual guide. "I know I should have listened to you, but at least now we have a better idea of what we're up against."

"You haven't the faintest notion," hissed the Spectral Assassin as he continued his pacing. "He isn't just a Morag Tong, but one of the original members. His abilities in magic are centuries more advanced than your own."

"And I'm willing to bet my fire spells are next to useless against him, right?" Finally having healed himself to the point where he felt good enough to ride, the assassin struggled to get to his feet. "Wish I could say the same about myself."

"You are fortunate to still be alive, it looked as though that elf put all his energy into that spell he cast at you," the spirit answered as he crossed his arms. "The only way I knew you were still alive was your continuous shrieking."

"Yeah, I didn't appreciate that by the way," snorted the mage bitterly as he pulled himself up onto Shadowmere's saddle.

"There was no time to gently lift you up and place you on the horse. It may have seemed callous, but I did save your life," the ghost answered resentfully.

"I know," KaNack answered with a sad nod. "You've done that a lot over the years. I never would have made it this far without you, Lucien." He forced a smile on his face as he looked down at the specter and offered him his hand. "Thank you, by the way."

"I'm the Dark Brotherhood spirit, it's what I do," the specter answered simply as he grasped the clawed hand and was pulled up into the saddle behind his sore caster.

"I only hope that Othrelos is the worst we'll have to deal with." KaNack's brows furrowed as he rode Shadowmere back towards Dawnstar. "I can't imagine we can take more than one of him in a fight."

"That is a very unsettling thought, child."

"Based on the recent events, we should hold off going to Riften until I have a better idea of how I want to proceed. We know now that the Morag Tong is behind the killings, but until we can gather some form of proof, Tullius and the others will believe that the Dark Brotherhood is still responsible for the murders."

"The College of Winterhold and the Thieves Guild could still be at risk," Lucien said as he scowled. "I doubt that even Othrelos would be able to withstand the combined force of the Greybeards though."

"I agree that Arngier and the others can take care of themselves. The college…." A rush of horror swept over the Argonian's body as he thought about his dearest friends that resided in the school. Brelas, J'Zargo, and Onmund; any one of them could become the next target!

"By Sithis, the college! I'll need to send a hawk to Tullius and let him know to send forces to Winterhold to provide extra security against those executioners!"

"You're going to contact the General?"

"He'll get suspicious if I go much longer before contacting him regardless. If nothing else, it will also give him an excuse to fill me in on just what in Oblivion happened in Solitude."

"Both the Empire and Companions are hunting the Dark Brotherhood. We cannot risk any more guilds going after us, Listener," said the spirit.

"Worse than that, Lucien. Now that it is war, the Morag Tong's killings might become more personal." The mage squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to think about having to find one of his friends or family dead at the hands of the Dunmer's guild. "I'll think of something. For now, let's just try and get back to Dawnstar in one piece."


	7. We're Not Here On Friendly Terms

The Listener was still sore, even after he had done the best he could with his own healing powers. His confrontation with the leader of the Morag Tong unnerved him. He had never faced an enemy that had overpowered him so easily before.

Before dismissing her from his chambers, the Brotherhood leader made sure that Kaie's shoulder had been properly healed. She had complained that it was still stiff, as many injuries were even after a healing spell was cast; the Breton would not be able to go out and work until she had at least a few days of rest.

Once alone in his room, the Argonian began brooding.

Grasping the glass of Alto wine firmly in his claws, the mage glowered ahead, seeming to stare at nothing. The mage isolated himself in his quarters, needing some time to think about everything that had taken place and what precautions had to be taken.

The Companions were on a blood hunt for the Dark Brotherhood, and no assassin was safe so long as the people of Skyrim believed that they had abandoned tradition and became nothing but reckless murderers. Lives were being taken not in the name of Sithis, but in bitterness and petty jealousy.

A gentle knocking outside his chambers made the reptile shut his eyes and growl. He didn't wish to be disturbed, but knew he had to address his family at some point. Downing the rest of his wine, the Argonian rose from his seat and made his way to the entrance of his room.

Nazir was standing before him, arms crossed but KaNack could tell he was concerned. "How are you holding up, Listener?"

"I feel like a roasted skeever," the reptile answered darkly as he exited his chambers and walked alongside the Redguard through the tunnels. "Have any of the others returned yet?"

"Shaleez arrived a short bit ago and is tending to Vytalas. The Dunmer seems pretty upset about something," Nazir answered.

"He has every reason to be," the Argonian said under his breath. "What of that hawk I asked you to send to Tullius?"

"It was released with your message. The bird should arrive in Solitude within the hour."

The Black Hand leader made his way into the conference chamber and took his seat at the end. It was surreal sitting there when there was no meeting being held.

"You look tired, Listener," Nazir remarked as he joined his leader's side.

"I am worried. I have dear friends outside this sanctuary, Nazir. I have declared war on the Morag Tong, and I fear they might do more than just go after the guilds." A shiver ran down the reptile's spine. "What if they go after my companions? What if they go after my family?" There was an echoing thud as the mage's fist slammed down on the table.

"Losing Festus and the others in Falkreath is a pain I never want to experience again. " He stared at the Redguard with haunted eyes. "I want to send a few brothers and sisters to the others guilds in disguise to watch over the residents. Those executioners can't strike if there are assassins lurking about, watching over the inhabitants."

"Brothers and sisters?" Nazir asked. "What about that Dunmer wizard you were telling me about? Do you honestly think one of us can succeed where you failed?"

"Failed?" KaNack growled as he shot the Redguard a dangerous look.

"I'm sorry," the Redguard said , realizing that he should have worded his concerns differently. "I meant no disrespect."

"Yes, I failed," the reptile confirmed in a guttural tone, "I nearly got myself killed by the Morag Tong leader. What would you have me do? Allow more people to die? I will not hide myself away as though I am afraid of him!" He grasped at the feathers on his head in tight fists. "If nothing else, the guilds will be on higher alert. Two may not be enough to take down that wizard, but an entire guild?" He snorted. "Not even a man as powerful as him could take on that many assailants."

"I just want you to be aware of the dangers of sending us out to those guilds. If we are discovered as Brotherhood assassins, it will be our necks on the line. If the Morag Tong find us, it will be us facing their wrath."

"If we stay away, they will kill," KaNack answered calmly. "If we approach them, they will kill. Nothing can change this, and I can see no other way in stopping them." He glared at Nazir. "A confrontation is inevitable, Speaker. We will have to face Othrelos and his executioners at some point, or eventually we will be hunted down like dogs by both the Empire and every faction in Skyrim."

"You are the Listener, KaNack," Nazir said gently. "We will follow any order you give us. We are willing to die in service to the Dark Brotherhood if that is what is necessary."

"I do not desire it," the Argonian growled as he rose from his seat.

"Tell me what you would have us do."

"I will send Shaleez and Dro'marash to the College of Winterhold, once our brother returns. That school is filled to the brim with wizards and warlocks. Their combined power would even give that Dark Elf reason for concern."

"Any particular reason you chose those two?"

"They would blend in with the other students perfectly. Shaleez has come far in her casting capabilities. I trust my protégé's abilities to protect the mages."

"You mean your old war buddies, right?" the Redguard asked. "Those are the ones you are really worried about in Winterhold."

KaNack lowered his head as he gave his Speaker a tired look. "Brelas, J'Zargo and Onmund. Yes, they are my top priority." The mage shook his head.

"We were put through hell during that war, Speaker. One by one, my friends and I conquered the Rebels' forces in the different districts of Skyrim. We fought together, slept together…" His eyes narrowed. "When Tullius wouldn't, we invaded the Palace of the Kings ourselves to save one of our own from Ulfric." He ran his clawed fingers through his feathers and he looked at Nazir sadly. "I took a vow with them that we would always have each others' backs and always be there for one another. If there is some way I can protect them from the Morag Tong, you damn well better believe I will do all that I can!"

"Listener, you speak of these casters as though they were one of us," the Redguard said softly.

"Those mages might not be a part of the Dark Brotherhood, but I consider them family," KaNack replied stiffly. "I will have no peace of mind until I am sure that there are trained assassins in that school keeping my brothers and sister in magic safe from harm!"

Nazir bowed respectfully to the Argonian. "I will find Shaleez and inform her to prepare for departure as soon as her brother returns."

As soon as the Redguard left, the Black Hand leader held his face in his hands. The Morag Tong declared war on them, and he prayed that the executioners didn't know whom he was closest to outside of the Brotherhood. The Argonian was a strong leader, but even he had chinks in his armor. His family and friends, was among the worst. They were his greatest strength as well as his greatest weakness.

"By Sithis, don't let my friends come to harm," he choked out before leaving to pay his respects to his deity.

* * *

The Dark Brotherhood Khajiit rode from the Riften stables, more than a little pleased with himself. He had been so precise, so swift; his victim did not even see him place a few drops of his poison into his tankard of ale as the cat passed by him. This had been his quickest death yet! His target was dead within thirty seconds of drinking his tainted brew; Babette would be so proud of him!

With everyone in the Bee and Barb swarming the dead body, and the guards making a scene, Dro'marash slipped out the door unnoticed. Once again, he had killed in the name of Sithis, and no one was the wiser of who he was.

"All hail Sithis!" Dro'marash laughed loudly as he rode his steed along the road, giddy from the thrill of the assassination. The stallion continued to carry him from Riften as the Khajiit wondered if his other brothers and sisters were having such fortune with their contracts. Most likely not as lucky as him! He was so clever! So quick! His poisons were more deadly than any bow, blade or spell in his personal opinion.

Dro's ears perked up when he heard what sounded like hoofbeats directly behind him. The cat turned his head and saw that there was a rider directly behind him. Using his night vision, the Khajiit could see that it was an Orc.

The Orsimer looked tall and had donned strong steel armor. He was ugly, even by Orc standards. Two large tusks erupted from his lower jaw and a mass of tangled red hair littered out from under the steel helmet that protected his yellowish green head. On his back was a large daedric warhammer that looked like it would probably take little to no effort to crush a man's skull in one swing.

"You there!" the Orc barked at the assassin. "Stop!"

The cat's whiskers twitched as a smirk crawled up his lips.

"You wish to speak to Dro'marash?" the feline snickered. "You must catch him first."

Pressing his boots into the gold stallion's sides, the horse sped forward down the road as fast as his hooves would carry him. The steeds of the Dark Brotherhood were among the fastest horses available in all of Skyrim. Any hope of pursuit was folly to those who believed they could catch or even keep up with one of the assassins once mounted.

Dro had just begun to let his guard down as he rode when he thought he saw a blur from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, the feline gawked as he saw the Orc was now running alongside his horse as though it was taking next to no effort.

"What in the name of Sithis?!"

The Orsimer retracted his weapon from his back and with one swing sent the Khajiit flying off the horse. The assassin yowled in pain as he landed painfully on his shoulder and rolled along the ground.

"Maybe the next time someone asks you to stop, you'll do so, Cat," the Orc grumbled as he started towards the Dark Brotherhood member. Dro pulled himself up from the road and pulled out his ebony blade that glistened in the moonlight. The barbarian knew that it had been coated with poison.

"Knocking Dro'marash from his horse will be the last mistake you make," the Khajiit growled as his ears flattened against his head. His tail swished restlessly as he prepared himself for the fight ahead. His assailant was covered in protective steel, but he knew there had to be a weak spot somewhere on him. "You move rather swiftly for a clumsy Orc."

The barbarian's grin grew wider as his grip on his warhammer tightened. "Let's just say I acquainted myself with some rather unique 'companions'." The larger man's eyes then narrowed. "In your stupid caterwauling, you have revealed yourself as a follower of Sithis. An assassin for the Dark Brotherhood."

"And that secret shall die with you!" the alchemist snarled. "Feel the sting of Dro's venom!"

The assassin lunged at his assailant, knowing he wouldn't get in a strike, but he needed to get closer in order to find a weak spot in the armor. The more agile killer easily ducked under the sluggish swing of the warhammer and flew behind the Orc. The cat's whiskers twitched in frustration as his orange eyes darted about his target. The only spots he could see that he might be able to puncture were just under the neckline of the helmet or a crook in the Orc's armpit.

Dro'marash ducked a second swing as the warhammer flew over his head, and the cat danced back. "You are too slow to hit a Khajiit!"

The Orc's eyes narrowed as he threw his daedric warhammer to the ground and then proceeded to remove his armor. The feline stood up straight and his head tilted to the side in confusion.

"Why are you getting naked before Dro'marash?"

The Orsimer only chuckled as he removed the final piece of his steel armor, leaving himself exposed in nothing more than his underclothes. A twisted smile formed on the assassin's face; he now had a huge target for his venomous blade. The hilt of the weapon grasped tightened in his clawed hand; Dro'marash sprang at the Orc, ready to deliver the deadly strike.

The Khajiit skidded to a halt when he saw his would-be victim's eyes glow a vibrant yellow. Dro took a few cautious steps backwards, not quite sure what to make of this change.

"You are right, Cat," the Orsimer grumbled out as his eyes continued to glow. "I am too slow to hit you with my weapon. Let's see how you fair against a little trick I picked up in Whiterun."

The fur on the feline began to stand on end as his assailant began snarling as his body began to contort and grow in size. Tufts of black fur began to sprout from the Orc's green and his tusks shape began to transform to better fit in his ever extending jawline.

"By Sithis," the cat hissed. He turned to mount his steed, but saw that the stallion had already taken off, horrified by the sight before it to the point where it actually abandoned its rider. Not knowing what else to do, the cat hurled his dagger right into the gut of the shifting monster before him.

The beast bellowed loudly and ripped the assassin's blade from his body. Dro'marash was not sure how long it would take, or if his poisons would even have an effect on the creature. The wrathful look in its glowing yellow eyes, however, told the Brotherhood alchemist that all he had done was make it angrier.

Releasing a string of curses, the Khajiit sprinted down the road, back towards Riften. He did not know what the monster behind him was; all he knew was that it was something that would most likely be able to tear him to pieces.

A deafening howl echoed through the area, causing the sensitive ears of the feline to ring. Dro knew he was fast; he would easily have been able to outrun a massive Orc, but the animal behind him, he was not so sure.

He could see Riften in the distance. The city was the only place where he knew he would be safe from the beast pursuing him. For every foot he got closer to the town, he could hear the snarls and panting get nearer and louder.

Dro let out a frightened screech as he felt something heavy tackle him, dragging him hard to the dirt road. The assassin was rolled onto his back and a massive clawed hand grasped the cat by his throat. Shimmering orange eyes widened in horror at the sight before him. All he could see were fangs and yellow eyes. The monster was enormous. All of the air was pushed from the assassin's lungs as all the weight of the gargantuan creature rested itself on his slender body.

Moist and hot breath flew into Dro's face with every guttural breath the beast took. He had no weapons; he was not strong enough to break free. The cat dug his claws deep into the face of the monster aiming for the eyes, in one final attempt at survival.

"If Dro is to go to the Void, I will take your sight with me!" the feline screamed furiously, trying to get at the eyes of the animal that began to swing its head from side to side. The clawed hand around the Khajiit's throat tightened and the assassin uttered a weak squeak as he tried to breathe. His vision began to blur as the lack of oxygen began to get the better of the alchemist; Dro'marash knew it would only be a matter of seconds before he felt the sharp teeth tear into him.

Suddenly the large animal pulled around from him and began letting out high pitched roars of pain. Rolling to his side, the feline looked out as his eyes began to focus. The creature looked like some kind of combination of both a wolf and a bear; it was a terrifying sight to behold. It swung it clawed hands viciously, and the cat could see that the beast had been pelted with arrows.

"Aim for the eyes, lass!"

More arrows struck into the monster, and with a furious roar, it took off back down the road to avoid further injury.

The feline grasped at his aching shoulder and a tremor ran through his body as he tried to make sense out of what had just occurred. Who was that Orc? What was he that he had changed into that monstrosity? Why did he have such a hatred for the followers of Sithis?

As the assassin pulled himself into a sitting position, his ears perked up as he heard the crunching sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

"What was that thing?"

"A werewolf," answered a feminine voice. "Not something you would find all the way in Riften."

"Well, well, well," the cat heard a gravelly voice mutter, "you're making friends all over, ain't ya?"

Dro struggled to his feet and turned around to see just who his rescuers were; he was not disappointed. Standing before him, all brandishing bows were Brynjolf, Karliah and Delvin from the Thieves Guild.

"Ah, Dro's good friends," the cat sighed as he staggered towards them. "Once again, the guild of thieves has aided their Brothers." He bowed his head politely to them. "Dro'marash is in your debt."

"We're not here on friendly terms, lad," Brynjold growled as he aimed his bow at the Khajiit, making the cat frown.

"Wha…? Dro does not understand. We are friends with the Thieves Guild. We gave you money to help bring you back on your feet."

"Dirge just found one of our own dead, Khajiit," the Dunmer answered stiffly. "Until we get a better look at the corpse, we can only assume that it was done by a professional killer."

"That means you're our top suspect," Mallory added as he crossed his arms. "We'll have a pretty good idea if it was the Brotherhood or not who murdered one of ours. So until your name is cleared, it would be in your best interest to come with us."

"I…" Dro'marash shook his head in confusion. "Dro did kill in Riften, but it was not one of your members. I killed a man in the Bee and Barb. See for yourself, you will see Dro's handiwork!"

"Lad," the Thieves Guild leader growled out as he took a few steps closer to the assassin, keeping an arrow aimed at the cat's throat. "I am not requesting that you come with us, I am TELLING you."

"Yes," the feline, sighed as he motioned for the Nord to calm down. "Dro'marash will come with you. He knows he did nothing wrong to the Thieves Guild."

"You won't come to any harm if you cooperate with us," Karliah explained coolly. "We have had a good relationship with the Dark Brotherhood for years and won't risk breaking ties if they had nothing to do with our friend's death."

Satisfied that the assassin was not going to flee, Brynjolf lowered his bow and jerked his head to the side, alerting the assassin to follow him.

"Not running is the first sign of a clear conscious, lad," the man explained. "I hope that this is all just a terrible misunderstanding."

Still grasping his sore shoulder, the alchemist began to follow the three, keeping himself between the Breton and Dunmer of the guild.

"Dro must know," he said quietly to Mallory, "who has died?"

"Vex," Delvin growled out darkly as he shot the cat a look, "and if it was you who killed her, I will see to it that you become my new personal throw rug."


	8. The Argonian and the Nightingales

It had not taken long for KaNack to receive word back from General Tullius. The news was grim indeed. Falk Firebeard, Jarl Elisif's steward, was one of the two latest victims of the Dark Brotherhood imposters. The mage was saddened to learn that the other victim had been Legate Rikke, one of the two officers that had been in charge of the mages during the war.

The General's message went on to explain that most of the documents relating to the Dark Brotherhood had been stolen, which only seemed to confirm the Imperial's suspicions that the assassins' guild was the true perpetrator. This of course would explain as to how Othrelos had known about the old Falkreath sanctuary's location.

KaNack had been through the documents before, and it mostly consisted of information provided by Maro when Astrid had still been in charge of the Dark Brotherhood. Thankfully, there was no new information that could lead the Morag Tong to the main sanctuary in Dawnstar. They would still be safe for the time being.

Tullius had not been the only one to send a messenger hawk back, however. The Listener had been more than a little surprised when a bird from the Thieves Guild arrived not more than a few days later, requesting his immediate audience. It was often the Dark Brotherhood that approached Brynjolf and his ragtag bandits, not the other way around. Brynjolf was one of the very few Nords that the Listener actually proudly admitted to being his friend and had maintained a professional relationship with him for close to a decade.

The Thieves Guild had gone through its share of turmoil in the last few years. Its leader, Mercer Frey, had betrayed everyone in the guild and in the end was punished for his deceit. With his death came the rebirth of the Nightingales which consisted of Karliah, Brynjolf and Devlin Mallory.

With the dispatch of the traitor, Lady Luck seemed to return to the Nord and his motley crew. Delvin was more than a little astonished when the scrawny red and black Argonian returned to the Ragged Flagon and showered the Breton in gold with the request that he refurbish an old sanctuary. Rebuilding the Dawnstar sanctum had not been hard, and the money was more than enough to get Brynjolf and his companions back on the path to glory. Soon, fences and the faction's influence had spread about Skyrim. Just as the Dark Brotherhood returned from the dead, so did the Thieves Guild.

Even after the complete remodeling of the Dawnstar Sanctuary, KaNack had kept the bandits' faction close and considered them invaluable allies. Whenever they needed a theft or information, the Nord and his men were more than willing to assist. If guards or enemies were threatening the Thieves Guild, the Brotherhood stepped in and made sure that the bandits remained safe and their hideout secure.

It took a lot to unnerve the Thieves Guild leader, and his note had put the reptile on edge. Brynjolf's message included that Dro'marash's absence was due to him being in their Ragged Flagon Cistern. This did not appear to be a threat, but it was highly usual.

Lucien kept close to the Listener's side as they wandered through Riften's graveyard, coming upon the large crypt which would provide a quicker entrance to the Thieves Guild's Cistern.

"I am greatly concerned Listener," the Speaker murmured as the Argonian pulled on a hidden chain within the mausoleum. "Since when does the Thieves Guild command you to appear before them?"

"For almost ten years they have done nothing but assist us, Lucien," the mage insisted, "I have nothing but warm feelings towards Brynjolf. Whatever he has to say, I am willing to hear him out. If nothing else, he might be able to sweet talk Maven into using her influence to keep the Brotherhood protected from the other factions."

"Maven." The name made even Lachance shudder. "That is a woman I am glad to not have crossed during my time. She would have made a very efficient Speaker."

"Don't tell me she has you scared, Buddy!" laughed the Listener as he stepped down the stairs towards the trap door that would lead to the sanctuary. "She can't hurt you!"

"I never said I was scared," the ghost stated bitterly. "I am just an admirer of her methods."

In many ways, the Thieves Guild and Brotherhood were similar. They both felt a close sense of loyalty and family between their members and had to remain hidden from those who saw them as nothing more than filthy lawbreakers. One obvious difference between the guilds, however, was that Brynjolf was adamant on trying to avoid death whenever possible. The dead don't provide money, and that was something that every thief believed in.

As secure as the mage felt when in the confines of the Dawnstar sanctuary, KaNack felt almost as safe in this underground guild. The thieves were spread about the chamber, keeping themselves busy with minuet tasks. The reptile perked up when he saw Brynjolf hovering over his desk, with his two fellow Nightingales by his side. Only the Dunmer was wearing the traditional armor; Delvin and the Nord seemed much happier to be back in their light and enchanted leather.

"Brynjolf, old friend!" KaNack laughed as he made his way towards the Thieves Guild leader. "I have to say, your hawk came as quite a surprise!"

The Nightingales turned at once staring at the Dark Brotherhood leader as he confidently approached them with the Spectral Assassin trailing closely behind. His small sharp teeth bared in a grin, the Argonian clasped his claws together. "So tell me, what does the Thieves Guild need from their Brothers?"

"Lad, glad you showed up," the Nord murmured darkly. The serious look in KaNack's eyes caused the mage to quickly be on his guard.

"Listener," Lucien hissed as he unsheathed his blade.

The two assassins soon saw that almost every member of the Thieves Guild had shown up and were effectively covering all the exits. The Spectral Assassin's eyes narrowed as he shot each and every one a threatening look.

"Brynjolf," the Argonian growled out as he crossed his arms. "This is hardly the welcome I was expecting from you."

"Sorry, lad. Everyone's been on edge the last few days," the Nord explained as he made his way around the desk to approach the assassin. "One of our best thieves, Vex, has been killed."

KaNack's eyes widened in shock. Vex may have been a small woman, but she was by no means vulnerable. She had broken men's hands for so much as simply asking her out on a date.

"By Sithis," he uttered. "You don't think WE had anything to do with this, do you?"

"Honestly, yeah, we did," Delvin answered bluntly. "See, she was killed the same night your furry friend came snooping around."

"Dro," growled KaNack, his inner fire was starting to burn hotter. "If you hurt him…"

"We are not ones who punish without reason," Karliah insisted gently. "I know all too well the feeling of being wrongly accused for another's death."

"We've learned from the past and won't make the same mistake twice, lad," answered the Thieves Guild leader. "Your brother is safe and at the Ragged Flagon enjoying a tankard of mead." The Nord looked sadly to the side as he thought about the sister they lost. "We know you and your family didn't kill her, KaNack. Someone was dead set on trying to convince us that you did though."

"I have to say, when you started to surround us I was worried that you were going to try and kill me." KaNack approached Brynjolf and placed two strong hands on his shoulders. "I am sorry for your loss. I must know though, how were you able to figure out that it was not the Dark Brotherhood?"

"It only took me a few seconds of looking at Vex's body before I realized that it ain't the work of your family," Mallory announced sharply. "Bloody black hand prints? Multiple stab wounds in the chest?" The Breton shook his head furiously. "No thought went into the attack at all! It was amateur at best! Our sister's corpse lacked all the grace and respect that comes with a proper Dark Brotherhood assassination!"

"The Morag Tong!" the Argonian hissed viciously. "That guild has been going on a killing spree across Skyrim! At first it was just random people, but now they are targeting esteemed members of the different guilds!"

"First Farkas of the Companions and we only recently found out about the deaths of Rikke and Firebeard in Solitude," Lachance said angrily. "Now they have gone after the Thieves Guild."

"I never heard of that group," Karliah answered softly as she brushed a strand of red hair from her eyes. "But it sounds like they are trying to get every faction in the land hunting for you."

"Well, they are about to know the feeling," Delvin growled as his dark eyes narrowed in fury. "If these bastards think they can kill Vex and get away with it, they got another thing coming, right?"

"Let us know what we can do to help, lad," Brynjolf insisted as he gestured to the surrounding thieves. "My men and I are here to assist you and the Brotherhood. Our bows, tools and blades are at your service!"

There was a loud communal grunt in agreement from the large group of thieves surrounding them.

The Listener turned around to face the guild. Many had already unsheathed their bows and blades. They were ready to avenge Vex. "We've only seen the faces of two of the Morag Tong so far," KaNack started as he began to pace before the bandits. "Two Dunmers. An older man and a young woman. Both shrouded in dark red and black, but I assure you that these are not the same threads as the Brotherhood! They are father and daughter and most likely will always be traveling together."

The mage got a dark look in his eyes. "If you find them, do not attack! The older elf is a powerful wizard and will not hesitate to strike one of you down!" The Argonian's tail began to swish from side to side restlessly. "Once you have their location and an idea of where they seem to be heading, report back to me! I have no doubts that they will continue to slaughter innocents so long as there are Brotherhood assassins in this land!"

"You all heard the Argonian!" Brynjolf barked as he joined the Listener's side. "Don't any of you try and be a hero! Keep only to the shadows and report back if you find anything! We're thieves! This is what we have been trained to do!"

There was another round of cheering from the thieves; they were growing restless and could not wait to head out and hunt for the elusive Dunmers.

"Niruin! You go scout the area of the Pale!" barked the Nord as he began to point to various bandits. "Vipir! Make yourself useful, and go to Solitude! Those Imperial soldiers might let something slip if given enough alto wine!"

As the Thieves Guild leader continued to hand out assignments, the Listener turned back to face the remaining Nightingales. "The Thieves Guild has already been struck. I have no doubt that the Morag Tong's next targets will be in the College of Winterhold," the mage said grimly.

"Oi, be a fool's errand that," growled Mallory. "Some rather dangerous individuals in that fortress. They get cooked like a goose before they even unsheathed a dagger."

"My friend Enthir is there," Karliah said suddenly. "He assures me that none can gain access unless they have been invited by one of the instructors." She smiled sweetly at the obviously worried assassin. "No one who wishes the inhabitants harm will be able to get inside."

"Really?" KaNack asked bitterly. "Ancano managed to weasel his way into the school under the invitation of Savos." The reptile's eyes narrowed. "Did Enthir tell you how well that worked out for the Arch Mage in the end?"

"Watch it, friend," Delvin uttered stiffly. "I understand you being under a lot of stress and all, but you're in our world now. So I'd be speaking a little nicer to the lady, yeah?"

A frustrated grumble rumbled in the reptile's throat as he ran his claws through his feathered hair. "I just don't want anyone in that school to get hurt. As Arch Marge, everyone's safety in the college falls down to me. The previous headmaster, Savos protected me and the other apprentices when I was still a student there; I have to make sure I do the same!"

"Well, I guess you'd better leave and get started then, right?" Mallory asked as he crossed his arms.

"Leaving already?" Brynjolf made his way over to the group. The bandits were already packing up and heading out on their individual assignments. "You're safe here; I'd thought I treat you and the ghost to a pint."

"I don't drink, but I appreciate the offer," Lachance said. "We should pick up our brother and return to Dawnstar, though. If the Listener is correct, we must send our members to the school as soon a possibly to keep an eye out for the Morag Tong."

"Aye, I get that. Wanting to protect your own, Brotherhood or not." The Nord shrugged his shoulders. The Thieves Guild leader then got a serious look in his eye. "There is something else you should probably know. When we found your Khajiit assassin, something was attacking him."

"Yeah, Karliah said it was a werewolf," Delvin added. "Big ugly dog thing. Real nasty piece of work too."

"Werewolf?" The mage had only heard of such a creature once before. The only one he had ever known to exist was his brother Arnbjorn from the Falkreath sanctuary.

"A large creature that is half wolf and half man. They have burning yellow eyes and fangs that would rival a troll's," Karliah continued to explain as she shuddered just slightly as she thought of the beast she and her fellow Nightingales fought off. "It was very lucky we happened upon your friend, I don't think he would have survived that encounter."

"I have encountered one of these creatures before, Karliah. He was a friend, but clearly this beast is not."

Hearing the Dunmer's description of the monster made the Listener think back to Whiterun, and the sight of Vilkas just before they escaped. The glowing yellow eyes and large teeth sounded very similar to what the Mer described.

"Why haven't I seen more of them around Skyrim?" the mage asked.

"That's the truly frightening thing about werewolves," Karliah said. "They are people that carry a disease of lycanthropy. Unless shifted in their diseased form, a werewolf could look no different from you or me."

"Just like Arnbjorn," the Listener hissed under his breath as he thought about his fallen friend.

"We weren't able to kill it, but we scared it off. Still, I'd be on my guard leaving Riften," Brynjolf insisted.

KaNack leaned to the side to whisper to Lucien. "Buddy, you don't think that Vilkas or the Companions are werewolves, do you?"

"It would certainly explain a few things," the spirit grumbled.

"What are you two mumbling about? Didn't ya mums teach ya that it's impolite to mutter?" Mallory asked as he smirked at the two.

"Anyway, is there anything else we can do, lad?" the Nord asked seeing that the Argonian seemed rather intent on leaving and did not want to keep him any longer than necessary.

KaNack's head picked up when a certain jarl came to mind. "Black-Briar has a lot of influence," the Argonian stated. "Do you think the Thieves Guild can get her to spread some of it to temporarily bring the Companions' hunt for us to a halt?" The reptile could not help but smirk. "It will be hard for her to make the unwanted disappear, if all of the Brothers disappear."

"Maven?" asked Brynjolf as he rubbed the back of his neck "Oh, lad. You know better than to think that it's just as simple as that. One does not ask Maven for favors, this is something she'll have to decide upon on her own. I will alert her to your situation; maybe she'll take it upon herself to lend a hand."

"Wouldn't hold my breath on that if I was you," Delvin remarked with a grin.

"Try telling her that the Morag Tong might go after one of the Black-Briars. That should get her attention, right?"

"Or get my head cut off!" snapped the Nord. "Honestly, lad. Maven will take it as a threat if I bring that to her!"

"Is it a threat?" KaNack growled as he started for the Cistern's exit. "No one is safe from the Morag Tong, not even the all mighty Maven."

Lachance walked in the shadow of the Argonian as he made his way through the short connecting tunnels of the Thieves Guild. Pushing open the warped wooden doors, the Black Hand leader was relieved to find his Khajiit brother downing a tankard, looking quite pleased with himself.

"Dro is quite serious, Vekel! I could speak to the caravan for you. See if I can't get my sand-walking kin to lower their prices for you!" The assassin rested a clawed hand on the bartender's shoulder. "Anything for a fellow brother, yes?" The cat turned his head and his orange eyes widened in delight when he saw his leader. "Ah! Listener! Good news, the Thieves Guild is letting Dro'marash drink for free to make up for accusing him of betrayal!"

"Well, they know how to win you over," the mage said softly as he playfully shoved the Khajiit's head, glad to see him safe and without a scratch on him. Quite a relief considering the frightening image that the Nightingales had painted for him regarding the cat's attacker. The reptile turned to the bartender and sighed. "How bad is the damage, Vekel?"

"You don't wanna know," the Nord answered bitterly as he grabbed a broom and began to sweep behind the counter. "Who would have thought something that scrawny could hold that much mead?"

The mage chuckled as he ruffled the feline's tuft of crimson hair. "I could have warned you about that." The Argonian leaned down and Dro'marash could see the concerned look in his eyes. "Are you sure you are alright, Dro?"

"Dro'marash is fine! His belly is full of mead and this Khajiit is ready to take on the world!" the cat laughed.

"Hey, lizard! Blue guy! You here to make trouble?!" a familiar voice growled in the distance.

"Oh, no," groaned KaNack as he covered his face with his hand. He had almost forgotten about Vekel's annoying guard dog. Even after all this time, it did not take much to set the Imperial off.

"Dirge! That's the Dark Brotherhood leader, KaNack! He's been coming down here for the last eight years! You know damn well who he is!" the aggravated Nord exclaimed pointing his broom at the large man guarding the bridge.

"Perhaps he was dropped on his head as a child," Lucien answered quietly as he gave Dirge an unimpressed look. "That tends to alter one's perception."

The reptile grinned; amused by his spiritual guide, but the Ragged Flagon guard was none too happy with the specter's comment.

"Stay outta trouble or there's gonna be trouble!" the Imperial snarled back nastily. "You got that, blue guy? I don't care if you are a ghost, I can still smash your skull!"

Frustrations had been building up and Lachance had been just looking for an excuse hit someone the last few days. The short-tempered bouncer seemed to be issuing a challenge; who was he to refuse?

"I think I can get him to shut his flapping jaw," the spirit whispered quietly to the reptile. "Is that what you wish?"

"Lucien," the mage grumbled as he shot his spiritual guardian a look. "Let's just leave, alright?" Turning back to the Khajiit, he patted his brother hard on the back and gestured behind him with a thumb. "Clearly you've had your fill, Dro. We need to return to the sanctuary, I have an important assignment for you and Shaleez."

"Ah! Khajiit will watch her back!"

Dro'marash got from his seat and walked alongside his leader as they started to the bridge. Dirge allowed the two to cross without a problem, but stepped in front of Lachance before the ghost could follow.

"I think you owe me an apology, ghost," the bouncer growled.

Spinning around, the Argonian gritted his teeth in frustration. He was ready to strangle Dirge himself. "Dirge! We don't have time for your stupid pride! Stand out of his way!"

"I would listen to him if I were you," the Speaker remarked as he grinned wickedly at the Imperial. His pale white eyes were just daring the taller man to try and strike him.

"You think an assassin's ghost is a match for a living thief?" Dirge retorted darkly.

"I journeyed to Riften once in my youth. A thief took my purse... so I took his eyes. It was a fair exchange," the spirit answered as he crossed his arms and gazed defiantly at the Imperial. "Pity that I have nothing for you to take…thief."

"Oh, by Sithis, I know that look. Lachance wants to fight him," the Argonian growled. "Lucien! Stop playing around with the Imperial!"

"I would enjoy nothing more than to leave with you, Listener," the spirit insisted as he used his hand to gesture towards the bouncer. "Do I have your permission to cross by any means necessary?"

"What?" growled Dirge.

"Whatever! Just don't kill him!" the mage snapped.

"What do you mean any means…?"

The Imperial grunted as the Spectral Assassin grasped him fiercely by the shoulders and drove his knee into the man's gut, knocking all the wind out of him. While Dirge was still lightheaded, Lucien charged forward, driving his shoulder into the bouncer's scapula and the large man toppled over the flimsy wooden barricades of the bridge and crashed rather unceremoniously into the shallow pool of water below.

Dirge pulled himself into a standing positioned and swiped a mass of damp blond hair out of his face. Murder was in his eyes as he stared up at the transparent man glaring at him from the bridge.

"Next time you stand in my way, I won't be so gentle," Lachance said simply before he continued to slowly cross the bridge to join the Argonian and Khajiit on the other side.

A furiously growl of anger sounded in Dirge's throat and he bore his teeth in a wrathful snarl. The three then decided it would be best to leave the tavern, lest Dirge went after them and Lucien would have no choice BUT to kill the man.

The mage turned to his spiritual guide and gave him an exhausted look. "Happy with yourself?" he asked.

"Very." Lucien could see that his caster was annoyed. "The man was delaying us; we did not have time to humor him." The ghost's brow furrowed. "I also was not about to apologize to him."

"You know, I seem to remember you giving me a hard time in the past for this exact same nonsense," the Argonian said as he glared at the Spectral Assassin. "Something about having patience and keeping my temper?"

"Do as I say, not as I do," Lachance answered simply, rather pleased that he had put the infuriating Imperial in his place.

"Oh, how long have you been waiting to pull out that gem, Buddy?" KaNack snickered as they continued through the dimly lit tunnels of the Ratway. It was good to have a moment of lightheartedness, even if it was at the expense of someone else's pride. There were dark times ahead, and the threat looming over the College of Winterhold was still there. There would be plenty of time for laughter once the Listener knew his three favorite mages were safe from Othrelos' executioners.


	9. I Wish I Had Your Faith

Vytalas and Kaie were still restricted to the confines of Dawnstar. The Listener did not feel that either had recovered enough from their injuries enough to venture outside the safety of the sanctuary.

To Kaie, it was nothing more than house arrest and she was becoming restless from being cooped up all day. The Dunmer could not have cared less; he had no desire to step past the Black Door anytime soon.

Over the years, Vy had been meeting with the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood to be personally trained in the art of archery. After Lachance's pupil mastered the bow, he had begun to instruct the Dark Elf in hand to hand combat with his dagger. The bow was an excellent tool, but one could always find himself in a position where range attacks would no longer be an option. It was vital that the Brotherhood member was properly trained so that he could fight no matter what the instance.

Having the Morag Tong cut off his ear did a number on Vytalas' nerves and confidence. This became even more apparent to the Dunmer when he met with the Spectral Assassin for his lesson.

The elf was frantically moving his blade from left to right, blocking every strike that the ghost made at him.

"Fight back! You cannot defeat anyone if you are only on the defense!" Lucien barked as he swung the spectral dagger once more at the Dunmer and a snarl formed on his face when once again his pupil did nothing but block. "Damn it all, Vytalas!"

The Spectral Assassin took a step back and sheathed his blade. "If you aren't going to put any real effort into this, than we might as well stop now!"

"You know better than to sheath your blade before me, Lachance!" the elf growled as he lunged at the spirit. The ghost took a mere step to the side and watched angrily as the frustrated assassin collapsed to the floor when his blade missed.

"As I was saying," the specter grumbled. The spirit's head turned to the side when someone else joined them in the training room. "Ah, Kaie. Maybe you're just the encouragement this Dunmer needs."

Seeing his lover approaching, the Dark Elf pulled his hood further up his head. It was difficult on his part, but he had managed to keep everyone else in the sanctuary oblivious to the fact that he was now missing one of his ears. Of course he had to threaten to break Shaleez's arm to get her to keep her distance when she claimed she had come to tend to any injuries he might have had.

Vytalas had been worrying Kaie as of late; he seemed much more stand offish, and had barely spoken ten words to her in the last three days. She didn't know the whole story; all KaNack would tell her was that he had a rather unpleasant encounter with the Morag Tong and left it at that. Every time she tried to question the Dunmer about it he would either storm off or tell her that it was none of her concern. As much as he was trying to push her away, Kaie was not about to give up on her love. She smiled sweetly as she approached Vytalas.

"Come on, Vy," she said as she knelt down next to the archer. "You aren't going to let mean old Lachance get the better of you, right?"

She reached forward to tickle at his ear which made the Dark Elf rise up so fast that it almost knocked her off balance. "That's the spirit," Kaie muttered as she rose from the ground and took a few steps back.

A low grumble sounded through the elf's throat as he slowly turned to face the Spectral Assassin, ebony blade grasped tightly in his hand. Lucien smirked when he saw a familiar spark in the brother's red eyes.

"There it is," he uttered quietly as he unsheathed his blade and got into a defensive position. "Come on, boy! See if you can return me to the Void!"

Kaie settled herself on top of one of the haystack targets as she watched the two Dark Brotherhood members resume their training. The elf raced towards the specter, predicting his sidestep as he adjusted himself and swung his blade. Lachance easily blocked the attack, but was grinning.

"That's it! Don't give me a moment! Keep at it!"

Vytalas grunted and hissed as he would dance out of the way to avoid the Dark Brotherhood spirit's blade and return with a slash of his own. With every quick jerk of movement, the Dunmer could sense that his hood was falling downwards more and more, and the closer it came to revealing his head, the more distracted he became.

Kaie was in the room, he couldn't let her see his shame. It was stupid for him to try and fix his hood in the midst of crossing blades with Lachance, and he paid for it when the transparent dagger sliced across his arm as he tried to replace his hood.

"VYTALAS!" Lucien was more furious than concerned that he had cut the elf. "What in Oblivion is going on in your head?!"

The Dunmer teeth were clenched in pain as he clasped the wound with his hand. The archer slowly advanced towards the spirit and leaned close to hiss at him.

"She is right there, Lachance. I couldn't let her see it."

A grumble sounded in the spirit's throat as he gave the assassin an exhausted look. "Wounded pride can hurt, I understand," the ghost stated darkly. "But it will not kill you. BLADES, however, can." He sheathed he dagger and stormed out of the chamber. "When you are ready to take this training seriously, we shall continue."

"I AM taking it seriously! Damn you, Lucien!" the Dunmer shouted after him. Vytalas kicked at the dirt in the chamber in frustration before he sat down on the ground to glare at the cut brought forth from his desperate attempt to hide his disfigurement.

Concerned, the female assassin got up from her seat and began to approach the frustrated elf.

"Vy? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the Mer answered quickly as he moved away from her. He pulled his bow from his back and decided to try and release some of his frustration by involving himself in his archery.

"Vy! Why have you been giving me the cold shoulder?" the Breton finally exclaimed in frustration. "What did I do to make you so angry?"

"I'm not angry at you!" Vytalas cursed inwardly as he tried to aim his bow, but his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't even line a proper sight.

"Love, you're scaring me," Kaie said gently as she approached him and took a hold of his trembling arms from behind. "Please, you can tell me anything."

Vytalas uttered a shaky groan as he allowed his bow to fall to the ground and turned to face her. He trusted Kaie more than anyone in the entire sanctuary and adored her. It was for this reason that he felt he couldn't bear to tell her what had happened. If the Breton lost respect for him, then there would truly be no reason for him to stay.

"Kaie, I love you more than anything," he said sadly as he grasped her chin in his hand, "but you wouldn't understand."

"What wouldn't I understand?" she asked hurtfully. "Vy, I'm tired of you keeping me in the shadows! What are you hiding from me?"

Anger burned within Kaie's small body when the Mer simply shook his head and started to walk away. Having enough, the Breton charged at him and grabbed at his hood fiercely. "Vytalas! Talk to me!"

The Dunmer tried to stop it, but it was too late. The hood was ripped from his head, and Kaie suddenly became aware of just why the elf had been so standoffish. His ear, the ear that so often she had tickled and lovingly kissed, had been viciously cut from his head.

The archer clasped a hand to hide his disfigurement and stared at the female assassin in both shock and fury.

"Damn you!" the elf snarled viciously as his red eyes burned with fury. "Are you happy?! Are you happy now you prying little girl?!" The Breton stumbled back as the enraged Dunmer turned his back to her, not wanting to see her look of disgust.

"Vytalas, those monsters," she gasped under her breath. "How could they do this to you?"

She cautiously approached her lover, not quite sure how he might react to her touch. Despite knowing Vytalas for many years, she was still not very familiar with the Mer culture. "Vy, I know it looks bad. At least you're still alive."

"You call this living?" he growled angrily as he glared over his shoulder at her. "Every time I leave this place I must keep my head covered. I will be considered an outcast and looked down upon by my fellow elves because of this disfigurement."

"Who cares what others think?" Kaie snapped as she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Those outsiders don't matter!" Her embrace tightened as she buried her face into his face, tears spilling from them. "Your family loves you! I love you! I don't care if you have two ears, one ear or none!"

The Dunmer had stiffened up when his lover embraced him. Part of the archer secretly had wanted her to have at least been somewhat reviled at the sight of him; it would have justified his pushing her away. Vytalas slowly lowered to his knees on the dirt floor, and the Breton climbed around to look at him.

Vibrant red eyes met with pale hazel. "Do you think I love you because of what you look like? Stupid Mer! That does not matter to me! I fell in love with you because of who you are! Because you are brave and kind! Because you are strong and gentle! Because I know that no matter what, you will always be there for me when I need you!"

The Breton reached forward and gently took a hold of the Dunmer's hand to pull it away from his head. "No matter what those horrid people ever do to you, they cannot change who you are inside. You will always have my heart." Kaie leaned forward to rest her forehead against the elf's.

"Kaie," he managed to choke out as he began to hold her close.

"I'm here, Vytalas. I'll always be here."

* * *

Dro'marash and Shaleez had their orders; they packed up and had ridden out to Winterhold, carrying a letter written by the Arch Mage that would grant them access to the college. They were still in good fighting condition and already had skills that would allow them to blend in perfectly with the other mages in the school.

Shaleez was finely tuned in her destruction magicka casting and the Khajiit had his background in alchemy. The College of Winterhold was a big place, but the assassins had been instructed by the Listener to focus their attention on three casters in particular. This would make their job a whole lot easier in the long run.

KaNack sat by the Night Mother's coffin, grasped in his claws was a golden pendant. The small dents in it told the story that it had seen its fair share of wear and tear. Engraved on the front of the circular talisman was a five-pointed eye, the College of Winterhold's emblem.

"The Listener seems very deep in thought."

The Argonian's head lifted, and KaNack saw the Fool of Hearts leaning against the wall; a familiar smile plastered on his face.

"I have not been at ease since this nasty business with the Morag Tong began, Cicero. You know that," the mage sighed as he looked back at the gold item.

The fool took a seat next to the Black Hand leader and leaned over, curious as to what was grasping his Listener's attention. "Cicero thinks he's seen that shiny, shiny necklace before."

"You have." KaNack handed the pendant over to the jester, and upon closer inspection, the Keeper could see that within the emblem of the eye was a very small engraving of the Imperial Legion's banner. "Seven years ago when I took a brief leave of the Dark Brotherhood."

"Ah, of course," the jester remarked with a nod. "That nasty business with the war. Many Stormcloaks were sent to the Void because of that," the Keeper chuckled wickedly as he nudged the mage playfully with his shoulder. "You know, for someone called the Listener you certainly did your fair share of Shouting."

KaNack did not even seem to hear the jester's voice; his eyes had a distant look as he thought about his service to the Imperial Legion.

"I had one of these made for each one of us who took the vow to fight Ulfric when I was a student in Winterhold." A sad smile crossed the reptile's face. "We called ourselves The Winterhold Five. Working as a team, we helped the Empire conquer many of the Stormcloaks' fortresses. The Stormcloaks laughed at us. They thought we were weak for using magic." There was a twinkle of malice in KaNack's eyes. "Once we were through with them, there was no one left to laugh."

A realization then hit KaNack and his eyes lowered. "And yet…"

"My Listener?"

"There was one who required almost all of us working together to destroy. Another mage, a powerful one." The reptile stared into the golden eyes of his confused Keeper. "His name was Wuunferth. He was Ulfric Stormcloak's court wizard. In the end he fell, but it had not been easy." A shudder ran down the Argonian's spine. "Granted it was years ago and I am much more powerful now; but this Othrelos must be at least twice as old as Wuunferth was."

"Oh, pffft!" the jester blew a raspberry and smirked as he shook his head. "You will kill him, my Listener!" Cicero handed the golden pendant back to his friend. "I know you don't believe it right now, but you will!"

"What makes you say that?" the Dark Brotherhood leader asked as he stared at the Keeper. "This foe is beyond anything I've faced before. Beyond Astrid, beyond Ulfric, beyond Maro," KaNack looked to the floor, his eyes wide with concern, "perhaps he might even be Alduin's equal."

The Keeper tsked the reptile. "You are always so worried! Weren't you listening to Cicero? You ARE going to kill him! That's all there is to it!"

"How can you be so sure? Why aren't you worried?"

The Fool of Hearts grinned wildly as he wrung his hands together. "Cicero is not worried because he has no reason to be. We've been through these snags so many times in the past, Listener. Too often the brothers and sisters thought all was lost, only to have you swoop in like a hawk and fix everything!" The jester sprang to his feet as he stretched his arms over his head. "You've never let us down in the past, and this is no different." He hummed happily to himself as he began to make his way to the stairs. "Cicero is just going to just relax and watch as the Morag Tong fall before your might."

"I wish I had your faith, my Keeper," the Argonian remarked quietly as he saw his friend vanish to the lower chambers of the sanctuary. Once again staring at the Winterhold Five amulet, KaNack found himself getting lost in his own memories.

* * *

"J'Zargo, what in Oblivion is taking you?!" KaNack snarled as he and the others waited for their fellow caster. After years of lectures and training, it had finally come time for the Argonian and his friends to leave the College of Winterhold and journey to Solitude. Time for them to fulfill the vow they took three years earlier.

The Khajiit exited the stables, riding a golden stallion that seemed gargantuan to the slender feline.

"By Julianos, could you have gotten a bigger horse?" Onmund exclaimed as the two female elves burst into laughter.

"J'Zargo, you look like a small child on that beast!" Brelas laughed as she adjusted the knapsack slung over her shoulder.

"What do you want?! This was all J'Zargo could afford! It was either this or the mule!"The Khajiit's ears flattened on his head as he awkwardly rode the giant steed over to the others.

"Ten septims says you fall within the first three miles," Onmund snorted as he wrapped an arm around Brelas to pull her close.

"You're on, Nord!" the cat growled as he continually readjusted himself, trying to find a comfortable position on the saddle.

"So, this is it?" Brelas asked as she turned to face KaNack with crossed arms. "We're actually going to war against Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Yes, and he's going to learn just how effective a pack of mages can be on the battlefield," the Argonian hissed, his hands clenching into fists as he thought about the jarl of Windhelm. "My only concern is facing General Tullius after all this time. He's not going to be too thrilled to see me."

"When he sees us, he'll change his mind," the Nord insisted. "After all, you're practically bringing an entire regiment to join the Imperials, how sore could he possibly be at you?"

"You don't know the General," the reptile insisted, "trust me. The man knows how to hold a grudge."

"Sounds a lot like a certain Lizard Wizard," the cat snickered as he guided his horse over to the Argonian. "If you are still scared, J'Zargo will hold your hand while…"

KaNack fiercely smacked the rear end of the Khajiit's mount and the horse nickered frantically before taking off in a sprint, effectively hurling the feline mage from his back.

"Less than three miles, J'Zargo!" the reptile called out to him. "I think you owe Onmund some coin!"

The only word the Argonian was able to make out was 'fetcher' as the cat released a string of curses in what one could only assume was the Khajiit's native tongue as he began to kick at the snow and chase after his newly purchased and freshly escaped horse.

Brelyna let out a sigh as she wrapped her arms around her husband's waist. "I guess we'd better get our horses as well. It's going to be a few days ride to Solitude and we should try and get as far as we can before nightfall."

"As long as we're together, nothing can hurt us, Brelyna," the Bosmer insisted as she hugged Onmund's arm tightly. "After all, we have the biggest and strongest mage in the school coming with us."

"You do realize that's because I'm a Nord, right?" Onmund asked, blushing slightly from the compliment.

"Yes! All fear the beet red mage of Winterhold!" KaNack exclaimed loudly as he raised a fist in the air. The Nord reached down and grabbed a handful of snow, packing it together to form a huge snowball and then hurled it at the Argonian's head.

"WULD!"

The snowball landed harmlessly into the snow, and the reptile was now a good fifty feet away. Rather proud with himself, the mage strutted his way back to his friends. "In all seriousness though, we will be safe so long as we're together. We are gifted in all the arts, but we do have our casting of choice." The mage looked at Brelas.

"I've never seen hotter fire castings than those that wielded by our feisty Bosmer." He looked back at J'Zargo who was making his way back, his horse's reigns grasped tightly in his claws. "J'Zargo's lightning can strike far and fast."

KaNack turned to Onmund. "As a Nord, you seemed naturally gifted in art of casting powerful frost spells. I don't know how effective that it will be against the Stormcloaks, but if anyone could do it, I know it's you, Onmund."

The Argonian finally turned to his wife and gently took her chin in his claws. "And lovely Brelyna, her casting is as caring as her heart. Her restoration skills are among the greatest of any in the school, and that will make her invaluable to the Imperial Legion in battle."

"Not to mention the man of Nordic legend himself, the Dragonborn," Onmund added as he crossed his arms grinning. "My grandfather often told me stories about the Dragonborn in battle; I can't wait to see you in action."

"This is going to be a group effort, Onmund. We took a vow to fight for the Empire, but we're going to do it together. No matter what, we stick together. Separate, we're just mere men and women, but together…" the Argonian grinned, "we're an impenetrable force of magic."

"Don't tell me J'Zargo missed one of the lizard's heartwarming speeches," the feline growled as he finally joined the others. He then narrowed his eyes at the Argonian. "It's not going to be now, but J'Zargo is going to make you pay for that stunt."

KaNack let out a deep sigh as he looked at the mages surrounding him, somehow he had ended up in charge of this unique collection of casters, and it was going to be up to him to make sure he didn't lead them astray.

"To Solitude then," Brelas said as she made a fist.

"To victory and glory!" Onmund announced proudly.

"To end the reign of the king slayer," hissed the Khajiit.

"To liberate the races in Skyrim from the Stormcloaks," Brelyna included.

"Long live the Empire!" the Argonian shouted loudly to the skies.

"LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!"


	10. You Never Change, Onmund

Presenting the Destruction Instructor Faralda with KaNack's writ of passage had been more than enough to welcome the two Dark Brotherhood assassins past the gates of the school. The Arch Mage had included in the note that the two were to be personal apprentices under the three resident members who had been a part of the Winterhold Five.

Shaleez had been surprised how easily it had been for both her and Dro'marash to blend in with the rest of the apprentices of the Winterhold College. With the Arch Mage being an Argonian, and his assistant a Khajiit, the school seemed to have a surplus of the beast races applying to improve their skills in the arcane arts.

For the last few weeks, both she and her brother had been almost always been in the presence of the feline J'Zargo, Brelas the Bosmer or Onmund, one of the very few Nordic mages in Skyrim. The Dark Brotherhood was going to make sure that the Morag Tong did not strike out against these three.

The more time that the assassins spent with the mages, the more they became attached to them all. KaNack's friends all had quirky personalities, which made it very easy for the Dark Brotherhood members to get along with them.

Once the Argonian's bitter rival, J'Zargo's opinion on the conjurer had changed, and now considered the reptile one of his dearest friends. The cat was arrogant and often boasted of his position as the substitute Arch Mage when KaNack was not present. He had a good heart, however, and knew where and when to be humble. The Khajiit had an open door policy and would never turn away an apprentice who needed assistance if he could help it.

Brelas was young for an elf, even if she was twenty years older than her husband. She had a feisty personally and always walked around with a smile on her face. Whenever she and Shaleez were together, the Argonian usually found herself getting mixed up in some kind of prank involving one of the instructors. Despite the Wood Elf's happy outlook on life, she still managed to produce dangerous fire spells without the influence of anger.

Onmund, the Nordic mage, and Brelas' beloved husband. As a Nord, the gift of frost spells seemed to come naturally to him; he had mastered them before any of the others when he was still a student. Small compared to the fighting Nords of Skyrim, he was much bigger and physically stronger than most of the inhabitants of Winterhold. Though he was larger than the others, he was one of the gentlest casters in the entire school. Stories relating to the war painted a different picture of the Nord, but those behind the golden gates could never seem to find a mean bone in his body.

Onmund loved to help others and both he and Brelas acted as Faralda's teaching assistants in the Destruction magic classes. The Altmer saw the couple as proof that one did not need to embrace negativity in order to cast effective Destruction spells.

Dro'marash and Shaleez stood next to each other with the other apprentices that were gathered in the courtyard of the college. They had to once again participate in a tradition that KaNack had inducted shortly after he had been named the new Arch Mage. All the instructors and students had to gather outside and sing the College of Winterhold anthem just as the sun set for the day.

The assassins still did not know all of the words, but they had overheard the Listener either humming or singing the song when they drank at the Windpeak Inn. The two were surprised to learn from the other students that ironically it had been their bard hating leader that wrote the song with the help of the other members of The Winterhold Five.

"Casting spells…Magelight…Wielding staffs….Scrolls shall we…" Shaleez tried desperately to try and fake her way through words that were being proudly sung by the others around her.

"Hmmm, Dro'marash would like to have an anthem for our family as well," the Khajiit whispered over to his scaled sister as he hugged himself trying to keep warm. "Perhaps we can convince our leader to write one?"

"Yeah, I get the feeling he was probably fairly drunk when he came up with this," she hissed at the cat.

"**_In this school, we reside! Standing side-by-side!_**" the mages all sang together as the anthem came to an end. As always, J'Zargo, Brelas and Onmund released a resounding 'Huzzuh' when the song had concluded.

"All right, young apprentices! That's all for the day!" Tolfdir announced when the murmuring of the crowd began to die down. "The other instructors and I will see you all tomorrow! May Julianos watch over us tonight!"

Dro'marash let out a sigh as he watched everyone disperse from the courtyard. Their three top priorities started towards the Hall of the Elements while everyone else returned to the residential quarters for rest.

"Still sleeping in the Arch Mage's quarters, J'Zargo?" Onmund asked with a grin as he held open the door.

"J'Zargo is merely keeping an eye on the Argonian's things during his absence! Nothing more!" the Khajiit insisted.

"And it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it's full of ingredients, soul gems and the largest bed in the school?" Brelas snickered as she entered the building.

"J'Zargo is professional in every sense of the word!" the cat exclaimed. "That reminds me. This has absolutely nothing to do with J'Zargo's stay in the room, but I need to send a few students out to gather about ten nirnroot."

The two assassins watched at the mages disappeared into the Hall of the Elements. It was time for them to get to work.

"Well, let the night watch duty commence," sighed the black and red Khajiit. "I'll handle J'Zargo tonight; think you can manage the love birds?"

"Sure, it's always the same. They go to their quarters, look over the notes for the next day's lecture and then go to bed. Let's move."

The two sped forward and entered the Hall of the Elements and that was where they went their different ways. Dro'marash vanished through the side door that led to the Arch Mage's quarters. Shaleez took her time as she ascended the stairwell to the second level where the magic instructors handled most of their class preparation. Keeping to the dark shadows, the Argonian snaked along the walls, following the kind and familiar voices.

"I still think that if it were true, we would have heard of it already," Brelas voice piped up in the distance. "Dear, I just don't want you to get your hopes up."

"Just think of it though. A whole new spell, creating a layer of ice over any surface! It would grant a power similar to that of KaNack's ice form Shout," the Nord answered in an excited tone.

Stopping just before the entrance way of the couple's quarters, the assassin peeked in to keep an eye on the two mages. Brelas was settled at her desk, looking over the notes as usual. Onmund was pacing restlessly from one side of the room to the other.

"Are you coming with me downstairs, Brelas?" the mage asked as rested his head on her shoulder, trying to look into her opal eyes.

"Someone has to go over all these notes, Onmund. Obviously tonight it's not going to be you since you are off to learn some mythical spell with your friend."

"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me," Onmund said as he took a step back from the Wood Elf who was pretending to look busy. Sighing, the Bosmer turned and smirked at him.

"Onmund, if I am right and this spell turns out to not be real, don't think I won't be doing the 'I told you so' dance."

"Oh, how I do love that dance," the Nord laughed quietly as he leaned down to kiss the Bosmer on the cheek. Onmund's wife shook her head as she ran a hand lovingly across his face.

"I know this man has taught you some rather unique spells. I just have my doubts that anyone not of dragon's blood can emulate the force of a Shout."

"Iiss!" Onmund shouted as he cast a light frost spell at Brelas' feet making her jump.

"Onmund!" she barked angrily, brushing at her heels. "That's cold!" The Bosmer spun around in her chair furiously as she scowled back down at her notes. Brelas' husband, not allowing himself to be dismissed so easily, wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling into her golden hair. Slowly the angered expression lifted and the Mer huffed in frustration as she reached up to stroke her husband's face.

"By Julianos, I'm in love with a fool."

"Is he taller than me?" Onmund asked with a smile.

Laughing, Brelas turned back around in her chair pulled Onmund down by his neck to kiss him. Her husband was tall and had to drop to a knee to make the kiss slightly less awkward for him. As the affectionate gesture came to an end, the Nord rested his head on her chest making a contented sound as the Mer lovingly stroked back his dark brown hair.

"Onmund, what am I going to do with you?" asked the Bosmer as she smiled down at the Nord who seemed rather content where he was and close to falling asleep. "You always get so excited about the slightest thing that you newly discover about magic."

"I am sensing a great deal of magic right here," the caster mumbled quietly. Holding up a hand, he cast Clairvoyance and the blue trail snaked its way back to the Bosmer's chest. "Yes, two fantastic orbs of magicka. Let's see what happens if I try and disenchant them."

The Nord couldn't help but laugh as his wife smacked him slightly across the head.

"You never change, Onmund," Brelas sighed as she returned to lovingly stroking his hair, "and I hope you never will." The Wood Elf smiled warmly down at the drowsy Nord. "Don't go. Stay here with me," she insisted gently.

"I'm tempted," he answered quietly. With his eyes shut and his head resting quite happily on pillows that were his wife's breasts, he weighed his options between keeping the Bosmer company or possibly attaining the power of a dragon Shout. "I am rather comfortable."

Shaleez sighed inwardly as she watched the two mages interact with each other. She had always been so busy focusing on her skills as a mage that she never really had an opportunity to involve herself in a romantic relationship of any kind.

Brelyna had the Listener, Kaie had Vytalas and here was Brelas with her gentle Nord. Why did the elves seem to find and embrace love so easily?

"Oh," Brelas muttered as she tapped the side of Onmund's head so he would look up at her. "It's fine, my love. I know how important this new frost spell is to you. Go ahead and meet with your friend." She lowered her head to nuzzle into his hair. "I'll still be here waiting for you when you return."

"You're too good to me, Brelas," Onmund said gently as he beamed up at her.

"I know," she smirked.

Shaleez grumbled to herself. She had not counted on the two to separate. If it were still day, it would not concern her. Classes would still be going on and there'd be too many witnesses for the Morag Tong to strike.

This friend that Onmund was meeting with sounded suspicious, however, and the assassin decided it would be wise to keep her eyes on the Nord. She swiftly returned to the shadows as the large mage stepped out of the room and started along the hall to the stairs.

As the reptile followed, she tried to weigh her options. Should she stay to the shadows in case it turned out to be nothing? Should she make her presence known so this supposed 'friend' might not attempt anything if he was not whom he claimed to be?

Shaleez decided Plan B, since the Nord was already familiar with her and would not be threatened by her presence.

"Onmund!"

The Nord turned around and his eyes widened when he saw the tawny Argonian hurrying towards him.

"Shaleez? It's after hours, you're not supposed to be in here," the mage said in confusion. He crossed his arms as he gave the assassin a stern look. "Please return to the Hall of Attainment, this isn't a matter you need to involve yourself in."

"I'm too restless, can't we just talk for a little while?" she asked innocently as she clasped her claws together and smiled sweetly at him.

The Nord grumbled as he looked over at the empty chamber. "Well, I guess you can stay until my friend arrives. I hope you don't sneak into the Hall of Element's regularly, Shaleez."

"Not as far as you know," the assassin answered as she took a seat on the stairs. The older mage grumbled down at her, but settled down on the step next to her. "So, Onmund," she started trying to prevent an awkward silence, "how long have you known the Arch Mage?"

"By Julianos," mumbled the Nord. "It must be at least twelve years now. We met when we were still apprentices here in the college. Long before the Eye of Magnus or the war."

"I never knew him in his youth, what was he like?" The assassin was genuinely curious, as she knew next to nothing about her leader's life outside of the Dark Brotherhood.

"When I first met him, he was one of the most temperamental mages I had ever come across," Onmund answered. "In fact, J'Zargo and I even questioned his skills in magicka." The Nord's eyes narrowed. "Then he stuck his spectral wolf on us."

Shaleez covered her mouth to hide her laughter. "Yes, that does sound like something he would have done."

"He did grow up in the end, though," said the caster as his look softened. "I don't know what exactly happened when he took those two extended leaves of the college, but each time he came back he was stronger and definitely more mature." He grinned. "He brought us all together. Me, Brelas, J'Zargo and Brelyna. Sure, we had been friends, but he made us into something even closer. Despite being of different blood and races, we became a true family."

The way Onmund had said the word 'family' was the exact same way the Listener said it when referring to the Dark Brotherhood.

"We had to be that close. We needed to have complete and utter faith in one another if we were to ever join the Imperial Legion and go to war."

"He's never gone into much detail about that," Shaleez remarked as she played with her claws. "In fact, I didn't even know he had been in the war until I found out that he was the Dragonborn. I believe he called you all The Winterhold Five."

A smile crossed the Nord's face and he reached into his satchel, pulling out a golden pendent that had the Winterhold Imperial eye engraved on it. "Yes, that's what we were called. Together, we were unstoppable."

"What we lacked in strength, we made up for with our magicka." The Nord sighed as he looked down at the glowing magelight pool that was illuminating the empty chamber. "The Stormcloaks had numbers and muscle in their favor, but we had strategy and abilities that they confused for weakness." Onmund leaned back against the stairs as he thought back to his days of serving General Tullius.

"So you weren't always a big cuddly teddy bear?" the assassin asked as she nudged into him playfully. "Sorry, I can't see you hurting anyone."

"Well, I think I did enough killing to last a lifetime, my dear." Onmund got a dark look his eyes and his entire body became stiff. "We had our share of dark times as well."

The Nord's expression concerned the reptile and she rested a comforting hand on his arm. "Onmund, are you all right?"

The older mage shook himself out of his stupor and rubbed at his eyes. The assassin had seen that same expression on Lachance before; it was when the spirit was thinking back to a time when he had endured horrible pain. Seeing her concern, the Nord forced himself to smile at her.

"We were lucky to all survive and be able to share the glory of victory. It was a great day for us as we stood together before the conquered Palace of the Kings." The caster chuckled likely. "After Ulfric's defeat, most of us returned to the college, but KaNack decided to remain an active member of the Imperial Legion. Who knows, maybe someday we'll have an opportunity to reform the old team again."

The Nord replaced the pendent back into his satchel and looked at the Argonian sadly. "You know, J'Zargo tried to keep a journal," he said. "He wanted publish the recordings of the war from the perspective of a mage."

"What happened to it? I've been to the library, there's no such tome in the collection."

"With an ego like his, I would have thought he'd of lept at the chance to get noted for writing a tome." The caster shrugged his shoulders. "I guess maybe he felt that what we went through was too personal and special. That his private thoughts were not meant to be exposed to just anyone."

Onmund rested his head on the palm of his hand as he stared straight ahead. "You should ask him to let you read it sometime. He really painted us all in a very flattering light. With as much as that cat talks, it was no surprise that he had such a gift for words."

Shaleez was glad to have this time with Onmund. Hearing him speak of KaNack and their time together helped her get a better sense as to why the Argonian felt it was so important to keep the three mages protected from the Morag Tong.

This was his family outside of the Dark Brotherhood. His brothers and sisters in magicka. The Listener's deadly and merciless nature did not change the fact that deep within he was a caring and devoted friend.

Those who threatened him would find nothing but death in their future; those whom were fortunate enough to earn his affection would find themselves in graces of one who would do anything to keep them from harm.

When Cicero had been taken by the Penitus Oculatus, her leader had made sure that there was not an agent left breathing. She was not sure what had happened in the war that caused Onmund to become slightly upset just from the memory, but the Argonian was positive that whatever it had been, KaNack did not let it go unpunished.

The Dark Brotherhood leader kept his friends close and his enemies dead. That was the way he had always been and probably always would be. To his final gasping breath, he would always be a loyal ally and guardian to those he loved.

Onmund's head perked up as he heard the great doors open, and the Nord squinted his eyes to try and see through the dim illumination of the magelight who was approaching. A smile formed on his face as he recognized who had entered.

"Ah! There he is, Shaleez. Now it's time for me to learn a spell that might even cause the mighty Arch Mage to gawk in shock." The caster stood up from the stairs and made his way down to greet the man that was waiting for him in the center of the chamber. "Othrelos! My Dunmer friend! I was wondering when you were going to show up!"


	11. I Am Still Allowed To Mourn

Shaleez had followed Onmund down the stairs as the Nord went to greet the strange man in the blue shrouded robes. It wasn't until she heard the mage say his name that horror washed over the Argonian. This was not just one of the Morag Tong, this was their leader. The one who had nearly killed the Listener.

The assassin grabbed Onmund by his arm and dragged him back as her other hand glowed a bright green.

"Onmund, ru…"

She had planned to cast paralyze to try and buy them some time to alert the others, but the Dark Elf had already been preparing the spell and the reptile found herself on her back, staring at the ceiling. She didn't hear Onmund and hoped that the Nord had run when he had the chance. If he still lived, then she could die knowing she fulfilled her duty to the Listener.

"Oh dear," the Dark Elf sighed as he slowly made his way over to female mage. "I wanted to have a little fun getting the Nord's hopes up before moving on to the nasty business." His red eyes leered down at the frozen reptile below him. "You had to go and run your mouth." He knelt down to scowl at her.

"An assassin for the Dark Brotherhood? Did your leader really think sending out a few bodyguards was going to keep his little friends safe?" Othrelos smirked. "I infiltrated this school over a month ago, little girl. All of my executioners charmed their way into the different guilds, long before we started the random killing of citizens."

He chuckled darkly as he pulled out his glass shortsword that began to glow a bright red from its enchantment. "My vampire could tell that some of the Companions were wolves just from their smell, so I sent my barbarian to get close to one of the twins, and then…" The Mer made a slitting motion across his throat with the sword.

"My delightful daughter easily got into Tullius' good graces when she signed up to join the Imperial Legion. That gave her access to Castle Dour and the late Legate Rikke. Firebeard was merely victim due to my boredom while I waited for my executioner to finish the job. His murder made the time pass by much quicker." He smiled as he thought back to Solitude. "His death also left a rather large imprint on the lovely jarl whom I am sure will assist Tullius any way she can to see the Brotherhood destroyed."

Shaleez narrowed her eyes up at the Morag Tong leader as he explained to her how his executioners handled the different guilds. "Then there was the Thieves Guild. My Redguard and Argonian were so quick with their hands that the stupid Nord could not induct them into the guild fast enough. That blond bitch no match for the two of them working together on her with their daggers." He shrugged his shoulders. "Their methods were crude though, the thief's end could not have been pleasant. From what my reptile told me, he dragged her to the bottom of the lake before she even had a chance to bleed to death."

The Dunmer turned his head to look at something and his smile widened, as he eyes glanced back down at Shaleez. "We have just been saving the some of the best deaths for last, however." He placed a hand on her head, and turned it so that she was looking to the side.

The assassin's heart sank when she saw Onmund's stiff form laid out before her. He had not escaped the effects of the paralysis spell.

"The Nord, though. I've been waiting weeks to execute that overgrown mage. He was selected even before we knew of his connection to your leader. KaNack may be called the Listener, but he certainly did his share of talking."

A cruel smile formed on the Dunmer's face as he looked over at the helpless Nord. "Oh, Onmund was so accommodating and kind. He welcomed me with open arms, insisting that I reminded him of his former headmaster. I indulged the man by teaching him a few minor tricks that seemed to blow his mind. He was always bright eyed, always happy, always so damn grateful." He leered down at the reptile. "The Nord always went on about his friend KaNack. He practically worships the ground he walks on." Othrelos snickered as he turned to look menacingly at Onmund's paralyzed form. "Do you think your Listener will cry when he learns of his death? I do hope he does."

The Dark Elf looked back at the female assassin, but gestured towards Onmund. "I want you to watch this. I want you to know you failed your leader before I kill you."

The mage tried to fight against the spells effects, but her body refused to respond. She could only watch in terror as the Dunmer took his time approaching Onmund. Othrelos looked down at the Nord and tapped the sword against his thigh.

"Ah, I see that angry look in your eyes. Do not worry; your lovely wife will not be tasting my blade. At least not this night." The Mer crouched down so that his arms were resting on his knees. "I'm sorry; I know you are trying to tell me something. Shall I take a guess at what it is?" The elf paused for a moment and then nodded. "I think you are trying to say that your flawless Arch Mage will see me dead." He reached down and patted the Nord's knee in sympathy.

"Oh, poor clueless, Onmund. Your scaly friend is not whom you think he is, you know." Othrelos leaned closer to the Nord, his eyes wide with delight reveling in his upcoming announcement. "He is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Yes, your precious mage had been slitting the throats of innocent people for years. Probably even when you were still students in this college. KaNack the Arch Mage is a murderer. Do you honestly think a heartless killer like him cares whether you live or die?" The Mer sneered, enjoying in the look of Onmund's eyes. "You are nothing to him."

The Morag Tong leader then let out a heavy sigh as he stood back up. "I do like you, however, Onmund. You have a pleasant demeanor that even I found enlightening…for a Nord." He shook his head. "See, this is why is had to be you who died. Everyone loves you, everyone adores you." The Dark Elf positioned his shortsword above the frozen mage's chest. "And everyone will be thirsting for the Dark Brotherhood's blood once they find you have been their latest victim"

A quiet laugh sounded from the Morag Tong leader. "It's funny. You survived the war and being Ulfric Stormcloak's prisoner; yet it's here in the safety of your school that you meet your end. Have a blessed journey to Sovrngarde, or wherever it is you go."

The Argonian squeezed her eyes shut not wanting to see the gentle Nord's cruel end. There was a sickening thud sound, but she did not want to look. She knew that Onmund was dead and that she had failed the Listener.

She heard soft rustlings, and a few moments later, the soft padding of footsteps on the stone floor. She opened her eyes when she felt a foot nudge her side. Shaleez looked up at Othrelos. In one hand was his glass sword that was freshly coated in blood. His other hand appeared to be stained with what looked like black paint.

"Couldn't bear to see it happen, my dear? I don't blame you. I can't even begin to think how disappointed your leader will be with you when he finds that one of his precious Winterhold Five has fallen under your watch." He knelt back down and Shaleez shot the Dunmer a look that might have set him ablaze; unfortunately it didn't. "Luckily for you, that is something you will not have to deal with." He placed his stained hand on her throat and left a horrid black handprint on it. "Despite what you may think of me, I was being sincere when I told the Nord that I liked him. You, however, have not fallen into my good graces and shall not be granted as painless a death as him."

A cruel grin crept up Othrelos' face. "I'd love to hear you scream, my dear. However, then that would alert the others and ruin all my plans. We can't have that now, can we?"

* * *

There was no happiness and no laughter to be found in the small town of Winterhold. The supposed Dark Brotherhood had once again struck, claiming two more victims.

The piercing shriek had awakened nearly everyone in the college in the middle of the night. It was poor Brelas who had found the Argonian apprentice and her beloved husband slain in the middle of the Hall of Elements.

Dro'marash was crushed and heartbroken when he had found out what had happened to his sister. He had been just a floor above; if he had heard anything he could have helped her. When J'Zargo had flown from the bed, awakened by the horrified scream, he had managed to sneak back outside the building. It was not before he saw Shaleez though.

Her chest had been punctured with multiple stab wounds and an ugly black handprint stood out against her pale light brown skin. His dear scaled sister, slaughtered by the Morag Tong as she no doubt tried to protect Onmund.

The Khajiit had seen his fair share of blood and death; but not like this, not with someone he truly cared about. The cat was overcome with shame with his failure to not only keep the mages safe, but also in the loss of a family member.

The feline wanted to return to Dawnstar and be with the remaining members of his Brotherhood. However, he still had a duty to the Listener. Brelas and J'Zargo were alive and they were now solely his responsibility. He had no choice but to deliver the news to the sanctuary by hawk and remain behind with the rest of the mourning mages.

When the message arrived in Dawnstar the news was a devastating blow to all within the haven. The assassins were beside themselves in grief, but the Listener's reaction was terrifying. It was as though Oblivion itself was brought down upon the haven.

Deafening screams, shrieks and Shouts rattled the normally quiet halls as the Dark Brotherhood leader began to delve deeper and deeper into the realms of madness. KaNack had become overcome by anger and grief at the discovery of Shaleez and Onmund's deaths. The Argonian began to destroy things left and right until his rampage sent him running into to the training chamber of the sanctuary. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he had to isolate himself from the others.

The brothers and sisters could do nothing but keep their distance as waves of fire and frost erupted from the entrance way and deafening Shouts echoed through the tunnels and shook the very ground around them.

"He's going to bring the whole place crashing down!" Vytalas exclaimed as Kaie gripped his arm tightly in fright as the enraged reptile's destruction seemed to not be even close to coming to an end.

Cicero, usually merry no matter what the circumstance, found himself alarmed and unsure of what to make from his Listener. The jester turned to the spirit standing next to him to see what the ghost of Lachance could make from all this.

Lucien had his arms crossed and his body was stiff as he stared at the different destructive elements spitting from the chamber. The ghost was obviously concerned, but seemed much calmer about the matter than everyone else.

"He's lost his mind!" Babette exclaimed and took a staggering step back as a dragon Shout caused the whole sanctuary to shake. "I've never seen him like this before!"

"I have once," Lucien answered darkly, causing all eyes to turn to him. "When he discovered Festus outside the Falkreath Sanctuary. However, he was not nearly as bad as this."

"No, no, no, this isn't good at all," Cicero muttered as he frantically shook his head. "The Listener can't be going mad! He needs to be calm! He needs to kill the Morag Tong and avenge our sister's death."

"Does he LOOK like he's in any shape to face the Morag Tong?!" Lachance snarled furiously at the Fool of Hearts.

"At this rate, it will only be a matter of time before someone in Dawnstar hears him and we're discovered!" the Redguard announced as the reptile's fury seemed to be growing worse with every passing second. "We need to stop him!"

"I'll go coat one of my arrows with a paralysis poison! I can shoot him without doing too much damage!" the Dunmer announced as he took off down the tunnel. Dro'marash's alchemy station was packed full of poisons of all types, he was bound to find one that could temporarily take down the enraged Argonian.

Cicero eyes narrowed and he unsheathed his ebony blade ready to pursue the archer, when his arm was grasped by Nazir. The jester stared at the Redguard's hand in confusion and then bared his teeth in a snarl at the Speaker.

"Cicero, let it go. It's the only way we're going to get KaNack to calm down," the older man insisted patiently. He was aware that the fool was impulsive and lest he was careful, he'd be the one tasting the ebony blade.

"Shooting the Listener?!" the Keeper barked. "No! Unacceptable! It's treachery! Treachery I say!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

The family assassins could only wait for Vytalas to return and keep themselves braced whenever the Listener's voice rested long enough to let out another devastating Shout. The Mer soon returned, dipping an arrow tip into a labeled green potion bottle.

"I got it! Stand back!" the Dunmer commanded as he pulled his ebony bow from its sheath and started for the chamber. The archer grunted in shock when he felt his weapon get pulled from his grasp. "What are..?!"

The Dark Elf had expected it to have been Cicero, since he was the most protective over the Dark Brotherhood leader, but it was the spirit of Lucien Lachance that was now holding his bow. The spirit's eyes narrowed as he reached forward and grabbed the poisoned arrow as well.

"You attempt this and one of two things is going to happen, boy," the spirit growled. "Either he is going to kill you as you take the time to aim a non-fatal shot; or you are going to kill him in a rush to avoid his destructive magic." The spirit shoved his way past the stunned archer. "If he's going to kill someone, let it be me! At least I can come back in the end!"

Vytalas brow furrowed but he allowed the specter to take over the dangerous task. Honestly, the Dunmer was not too surprised and should have expected the Dark Brotherhood spirit to not have faith in his aim after the incident during his training with the specter.

The ghost of Lachance readied the bow and arrow as he moved ever closer to the threshold of Oblivion. He paused momentarily as a rush of flames spewed from the entrance way, produced from the mage that was overcome by emotion.

"Lucien! Be careful!" Kaie called after him.

The spirit of the Dark Brotherhood flattened against the wall by the entrance and braced himself as another Shout rattled the eardrums of the others. He had to time everything just right; he had to find an opportune moment between the castings and the Shouts.

His white eyes narrowed as he watched a burst of frost shoot from the doorway, followed quickly by fire….NOW!

Lucien swung himself into the door frame and quickly took aim. One shot, right to the upper thigh; painful, but easily recoverable. The specter threw himself back just as the infuriated Argonian turned on him

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

A large gust of fire exploded from the doorway and the heat from it caused everyone to leap backwards. Clenching his teeth together, Lachance quickly hurried over to join the rest of the assassins and then turned back, hoping the poison would work fast. The last thing they needed was for the mage to come out and start releasing his wrath upon them.

The fury did not come however, if fact it was the complete opposite. Now there was nothing as the chaos had come to a screeching halt. There was no noise and the earth was still now that the damned Shouting had stopped.

Nazir took a wary step forward, trying to peer into the chamber without getting too close.

"You did make sure it wasn't a kill shot, right Lucien?" the unchild asked quietly, breaking the silence than t had become eerie after such a long period of the deafening racket.

"If it had been, he wouldn't have given that last Shout," the ghost answered adamantly as he shoved the ebony bow back into Vytalas' hands. "Cicero, go see to him."

The Keeper turned to the spirit and raised an eyebrow. "Well, aren't you the brave specter," the jester muttered bitterly.

"I just shot him with an arrow, he's not going to be too pleased to see me," Lachance said stiffly. "Besides, he trusts you more than anyone else in this sanctuary." Hearing this caused the fool's look to soften as he turned to glance back at the training chamber. "Angered or not, he would never hurt you knowingly, jester."

"Well, it is a Keeper's duty to serve his Listener," the Imperial replied with a shrug. Without a second though, the fool briskly made his way towards the entrance way of the room. Peeking in, the merry man's eyes widened with shock.

The chamber had once been full with dummies, haystacks, targets and weapon racks. Now there was nothing but soggy ash. The room was gray and steam billowed from all the surfaces due to the powerful combination of both fire and ice. The room was warm and humid, and breathing was somewhat difficult as the jester slowly prodded forward.

Ahead, huddled in a corner, the Keeper found his Listener. His shrouded robes were had been shredded and seared in his anger and his tail was wrapped tightly around himself. The poison had quickly done his job, as the Argonian appeared too weak to even lift his head to look at the approaching Fool of Hearts.

"My Listener?" the Imperial inquired softly as he knelt down to get a better look at his dear friend. There was no more anger in the reptile's eyes, only despair. "Cicero enjoys a good bout of destruction as much as the next man, but not when our home is being destroyed in the process."

"They're dead because of me," the mage croaked out.

"Listener!" exclaimed the jester with a look of disbelief.

"If I had gone instead of Shaleez, she'd still be alive," KaNack muttered as he squeezed his eyes shut, heartbroken from the lives that had been stolen from him. "Perhaps I could have saved Onmund; maybe that executioner would be satisfied with my life instead of his. Now I've lost one of my dearest friends; and Shaleez…"The Argonian choked as he became overrun with guilt. "By Sithis, she was practically my daughter and I sent her to her death."

"No, Listener!" the fool insisted as he repositioned himself against the wall so that he could see the mage's face. "This is not your fault! No! The damn Morag Tong is to blame! They will pay! We will make them all pay!"

Cicero pulled out his ebony blade. "Give the word, my Listener! Cicero shall go out and bring you the heads of all the executioners! Command me and I will collect them for you!"

"Enough of my friends have died," KaNack hissed weakly, still under the heavy effects of the poison. "I can't bear the thought of losing another. I just can't."

Frowning, the Keeper sheathed his blade and lowered his head so that he was level with the Argonian's. The fool had never seen his friend in such a state before and it made the merry man's heart sink.

"Listener," he pleaded quietly. "Don't let them break you. They may have taken our dear sister, but we are still alive. So long as there is a Listener, the Dark Brotherhood shall never fall. We will end the Morag Tong, my Listener, please have faith."

"What's the point?" KaNack growled bitterly. "They've practically won. The only thing keeping that damned Dunmer from victory is the fact that he doesn't know where our sanctuary is. It's only a matter of time before him, or one of the guilds sniffs us out." He looked miserably into the Keeper's golden eyes. "Then all of us will either die in here or on the chopping block."

"What's this?!" the Keeper hissed. "The Listener I know would NEVER give up!" KaNack grunted as the jester grasped him by one of his horns. "Don't you dare say such things, Listener. That is the poison speaking, not your heart! Cicero refuses to let you submit to these…these…PATHETIC excuses for assassins! They must not win! They must be punished! They must answer for their sins!"

The Argonian grunted as the jester's eyes seemed to grow amber in rage. "Cicero did not endure the solitude and strife of Cheydinhal for nothing," the Imperial growled darkly. "He did not travel miles and miles from his homeland with the Night Mother just to accept defeat! He did not devote his love and life to one who would simply bend to the wills of some pointy eared wretch just because his friends had been killed!"

The Keeper was now screaming "I've lost friends too, Listener! I've had to KILL friends! Yet Cicero still is strong! Cicero still wants to fight! Cicero will NEVER surrender to anyone who threatens the Dark Brotherhood!" Cicero's gloved hand clasped onto the mage's throat as vicious snarl was plastered on his face. "The Listener saying he gives up is a threat upon the Brotherhood. Do you dare surrender?"

The fool wasn't choking him, but the grasp was firm enough to alert KaNack that if he wanted to, the Fool of Hearts could easily end him. Clouded white eyes lifted to meet gold.

"Even after I fell before the leader of our enemy; even after I made a decision that led to the death of a beloved sister; you still have faith in me, Cicero?" the Argonian asked quietly.

"If it comes down to just the two of us left standing before the entire Imperial Legion, so be it! The Fool of Hearts' faith in his Listener will never falter if you don't give up! So long as the Listener is true to the Dark Brotherhood, Cicero shall be true to him to the bitter end!"

Having said his peace, the Fool of Hearts released the Argonian. Cicero could see that the Argonian was still upset, but he definitely did not give the appearance of one who was willing to give up.

"I am still allowed to mourn, am I not?"

"Oh, of course, Listener," the jester answered solemnly. "It hurts to lose family, Cicero understands. Take comfort in knowing that they are not suffering. Their pain is over now. Your sister is in the safe hands of Sithis and your mage friend...Well, he has the luxury of going wherever the good people go."

KaNack face was stained with tears. He had not cried or felt such pain since the Falkreath sanctuary. His Keeper was right though, allowing himself to crumble was exactly what the Morag Tong was trying to do with Shaleez and Onmund's deaths. The mage wasn't about to give the Dunmer son of a bitch the gratification of submitting to him.

Picking up his head, the reptile stared at the Fool of Hearts sadly. "You are my dearest friend, Cicero," KaNack said softly. "With the exception of Brelyna, there is no one on Nirn that I care for more than you." He looked at the jester with frightened eyes. "Promise me. Swear to it that you will not let them kill you."

The jester held his head up proudly and a familiar crooked smile formed on the Imperial's face. Standing up, Cicero bowed gracefully to the Dark Brotherhood leader.

"With pleasure, my Listener! Cicero is always eager to follow your commands. You wish me to not fall to the Morag Tong? Then Cicero shall not do so."


	12. A Nordic Funeral

Tullius' hawk arrived not too long after the tragedy of Winterhold, sending his condolences and the news of Onmund's death. The General informed the Argonian that his wife had been contacted by the college and that the school had prepared a memorial service for the Nord. All were welcomed to say farewell and be there to share memories of a better time.

Brelyna was to arrive in Winterhold under the strict protection of the General himself and a few of the best of his Imperial soldiers. The Argonian was to meet them all in the school.

All of the assassins wanted to accompany their leader to the College, but the Argonian refused, stating that this was not a matter that involved the Dark Brotherhood. Until he returned, he was the Arch Mage and that none of them could be a part of Onmund's funeral.

KaNack had made many trips back and forth from Winterhold and Dawnstar, but this time it felt like an eternity getting to his school. Donned in his headmaster robes and wearing the Winterhold Five pendant proudly, the Argonian took his time riding Shadowmere.

He wanted to delay the inevitable; so long as he did not see the body, he would not be able to fully comprehend that Onmund was gone.

KaNack's soul had been bound to Sithis and Onmund, a proud and good man, was destined to reside in Sovngarde. The reptile more than likely would never lay eyes on the friendly mage again.

Ahead was the small town and in the distance the bright glowing blue lights that seemed to shoot up in an endless beam. Whenever he saw those lights, he had always felt a sense of warmth and homecoming, but now it took everything just to keep from sobbing.

The winds were harsh and chilling; winter was upon them and soon the blizzards would be coming to the Pale forcing all the residents to seek shelter. For now though, it only added to the caster's misery as he forced himself to cross the bridge.

Onmund was a Nord, and as was tradition, his body was to be burned so that his soul could be released to the comforting plane of Sovngarde.

KaNack had been there and made sure that Alduin would never again threaten the spirits of Shor's land of the dead. Onmund's soul would be safe and happy, drinking and singing with fellow Nords.

There was a pleasant mixture of man, beast race and elf. The Nordic mage was adored by many and the courtyard, as expansive as it was, had been filled by those whom Onmund had touched over the years. General Tullius and a few of his Imperial soldiers stood respectfully to the side, donned not in their battle armor but their decorative armor.

Even a few of the jarls had come to say goodbye to the caster whom had fought so valiantly to protect their towns and people from Ulfric Stormcloak's unrelenting rebels. Balgruuf, Elisif, and even Maven Black-Briar had shown up.

It did not take the crowd long to realize that the Arch Mage had arrived and quickly parted so that the Argonian had a clear path to the front, where Onmund's body was resting. The reptile slowly and sadly made his way through the crowd, politely bowing to those who quietly expressed their sincere sympathies.

The Argonian paused when he saw two Nords in particular who were standing amongst the others, Aela and Vilkas of the Companions. His eyes narrowed and his body tensed up once he saw them, expecting the Companion's leader to finish what he had started in Whiterun. The Nord held up his hand in a peaceful motion.

"Please, this is not the time or place. Go tend to your fallen comrade," the mercenary said softly. The man's dark eyes seemed void of any evidence of malice, and KaNack lowered his guard before making his way to the front of the crowd.

Surrounding Onmund's body were a few of the college's instructors and the remaining members of the Winterhold Five.

KaNack could not help himself as he hurried over to his wife and wrapped his arms around Brelyna holding her close. He could feel her shuddering, silently sobbing into his robes. J'Zargo looked overwhelmed with guilt; his head hung low and his normally perky ears were wilted.

Brelas, poor Brelas. She was a shell of her former self, her tan cheeks stained red from the tears that she was still shedding. She did not even turn to look at the Arch Mage; she could not take her eyes off her husband. Onmund and she had grown closer every day they spent with one another, they were soul mates. The Nord's death shattered Brelas' spirit, and she knew that if she lived to be a thousand, she'd never love again.

KaNack reluctantly let go of his wife and made his way over to the other casters. He was not the only one who was wearing the Winterhold Five pendant. The other three proudly were adorning the golden pendants. J'Zargo leaned forward to whisper to the Argonian.

"They are expecting you to say a few words about Onmund before we…" the cat couldn't even bring himself to describe it. Setting Onmund on fire seemed so horrible, and yet it would be considered an insult to leave his body intact. Nords believed that the soul could not be freed from the body until it had been completed turned to ash.

The Arch Mage nodded solemnly and turned to face the crowd before him. He recognized most of the faces, but there were a few that he had never seen. KaNack had not been aware of just how many people truly adored the Nordic mage.

Onmund was a kind soul and people seemed drawn towards him no matter where he went; if the Morag Tong's goal was to hurt people with their victims, they could not have chosen a better person to remove from the land of Skyrim. The Argonian cleared his throat and held his head up high.

"As far back as my memory serves me, Onmund had always been a part of the College of Winterhold," he started. "People had their doubts, some felt that a Nord's place was on the farm or should wield a sword, not spells. Onmund proved them all wrong though."

"He loved being a mage and never allowed anyone to stray him from the path of magic. Not even his own family." KaNack's lips thinned, regretting mention the bitterness that Onmund's parents had felt towards their son's decision to pursue wizardry.

"He was always eager to learn and never stopped asking questions. Onmund devoted himself to the school, but as a son of Skyrim, he also devoted himself to this land." KaNack held up his pendant with pride. "Mages are hesitant to join the battlefield; they are much weaker than soldiers, but Onmund showed no such fear! He was the first of all of us who vowed to fight the tyranny of Ulfric Stormcloak! He was the true reason that the Winterhold Five was formed!"

The Argonian shook his head sadly. "Onmund was one of the strongest and bravest men I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. He never once abandoned his post or ran when someone was crying for help. That was his way; he wanted to help people no matter what dangers were before him. Onmund was not afraid to throw himself before the Shout of a dragon…" a dark look formed in the Arch Mage's eyes, "and showed no fear when he was at the mercy of the previous Jarl of Windhelm. His spirit was strong and he refused to submit to anyone."

"Onmund embraced his inner magicka and became a master of frost spells. He loved being a mage and that was why he remained in the College long after his lessons had come to an end. As dangerous as he was during the war and as deadly as his casting could be, there was never a more gentle or kind wizard to ever step past these golden gates. Teaching became almost second nature to Onmund and he helped mold many of the apprentices into the skilled mages they are today. He and his lovely wife brought forth new revelations to this school providing a means of casting destruction magic by using the influence of love and happiness rather than negativity. He was an innovator and this college was blessed to have him residing within is as long as he had."

The Argonian's teeth clenched and he could feel his hands begin to tingle with frost. He forced himself to swallow his emotions and continued to speak. "Onmund was not just a teacher of apprentices. He was not just a member of the Winterhold Five. He was my friend and I loved him like a brother. I am not going to lie to you and say that we are going to recover from this easily. We have lost a member of our elite family and the pain will likely linger for years. However, we must be strong and continue our studies. Onmund would not want this school to fall to pieces because of his death. He would want the learning and teaching to continue! He would want aspiring mages to come here no matter what people may tell them!"

The Argonian swung his arm in a gesture. "Look around you! Nords! Imperials! Khajiits! Argonians! Elves! All of us have been brought together because deep inside we are all the same! We all have the magicka flowing through our veins! So long as there are people in Skyrim who wish to perfect the Arcane Arts, we will always welcome them here to our home! Because this is our home! We are a family! Brothers and sisters of magicka! We learn together! We sleep together!" The mage got a sad look in his eyes. "We shall grieve together. However, we will not allow Onmund's death to be in vain. We shall drive you all even harder to master your craft! We will turn you into the master wizards you were born to be! You will become powerful and dangerous! No one will be able to touch you! The Eight help any who ever dare to try and strike one of us behind these gates again!"

KaNack nodded and then bowed his head. "Now, everyone please be silent as we give our teacher, our friend, our brother, Onmund, one final farewell."

All the heads in the crowd lowered and a hush fell over the courtyard. KaNack turned around and returned to the other three who were surrounding Onmund's body. KaNack almost could not go through with it as he looked upon his gentle giant of a mage.

Onmund's face was pale and the long dark brown braids stood out loudly against the white skin. The Nord was free of the smile he almost seemed to always carry. The Argonian wanted to see the smile. He wanted to see his friend's smile one last time, but he was not going to have that opportunity. Onmund's body was wrapped in blanket made from bear skins, and settled on top of a pile of hay, soaked with oil.

He gently took Brelyna's hand in his and looked at the others. It was an act of respect and kindness, but seemed so horrible.

"Are you all ready? Can you do this?" he asked quietly.

"For Onmund, J'Zargo will do anything to assure his journey to Sovngarde," the Khajiit answered softly.

"I'm ready," Brelyna confirmed sadly.

Brelas choked, but nodded her head in agreement.

All four held out their palms and flames began to sprout from their hands. Together, they cast their flames spells and stepped back as the flames grew hotter when coming into contact with the oil. Brelas hid her face into J'Zargo's shoulder and the Khajiit held her tightly trying to comfort her. The other three could not take their eyes away. Sovngarde was meant for the Nords, this was the last time they would get to see their beloved brother.

"_**In the land of Winterhold**_," KaNack started to sing slowly and softly, "**_there is young and there is old_**."

The others turned to look at him and realized what was happening and quietly began to join in.

"**_But the friendships that unfold are greater than all gold_**."

Hearing the four casters singing caused the rest of the apprentices and instructors to solemnly join in the last few verses of the College's anthem.

"**_Walking tall and full of pride. Mighty Julianos is our guide._**  
**_In this school we reside, standing side-by-side_**."

There was faint murmuring amongst that could barely be heard over the crackling of the large fire. That was all there was to it, Onmund was now on his way to Sovngarde. KaNack let out a heavy sigh and turned to the others.

"I can't deal with all these people. Do you think all can join me in my quarters?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Of course, that sounds like a good idea," J'Zargo responded with a nod. "Tullius wanted to speak to you, however. Meet us up there when you are done."

The remaining members of the Winterhold Five made their way to the Hall of the Elements. They needed to mourn, but not in front of a large crowd such as this. The Arch Mage stepped away from the raging flames and started to maneuver his way through the crowd to find Tullius; no doubt the General wanted to speak about how this was the Dark Brotherhood's doing.

"I knew it," a voice growled. "I told him that coming here was a death sentence."

"He made his choice, dear. There's nothing we could have done to make him change his mind."

The Argonian turned his head to see the two speaking were an older Nord couple. The man's face seemed very similar to Onmund's, these people no doubt must have been his parents. It slightly unnerved the reptile that neither seemed to be shedding tears like most of the others. The mage decided to let it go and continue seeking Tullius, but what the man said next struck a nerve.

"Damn mages," the Nord growled. "If he had just been a farmer, he wouldn't have been killed. To die a weak mage? How can he possibly enter Sovrngarde? It is reserved for fighters and real men."

The Listener turned on his heels and stormed back to the older man, staring into his very soul. "How dare you," he growled darkly. "Did you not listen to a single word I said up there? There is no question that Onmund more than earned his right to Shor's realm. "

"I know you are the Arch Mage," the Nord said in frustration, "however you have to be a true Nord to understand what does and does not make you worthy of Sovngarde. You must prove yourself in battle and casting fire and ice is not the way of a warrior."

"You're wrong," KaNack said stiffly, trying to hold his temper. "He was a soldier and a great man. He proved his worth with every Stormcloak Fort we conquered."

"Yes, combating against those who only wished to worship our Nordic deity," the man responded coldly.

"Our fight with the Stormcloaks was not due to their religious background. You should be proud of Onmund."

"I'd be prouder if he had actually made something of himself."

"Sond!" the woman hissed at him.

KaNack stared at the man infuriated and pointed a shaking claw towards the gates.

"Get out," he growled. "Get out of here before I make your heart explode with my casting."

"Are you actually asking me to leave my own son's funeral?" Sond asked angrily.

"No, I am TELLING you to leave your son's funeral!" the Argonian snarled at him, his hand crackling with electricity. "By the Eight, Onmund told me that he had left you on bad terms, but I had no idea how heartless you really were." He took a threatening step forward. "Now leave, and pray that we never cross paths outside this school."

Seeing the lightning spell already in the works, the two Nord quickly hurried their way through the crowd to exit the gates.

The destructive casting vanished from his palms, and the Argonian's tail twitched as he felt a pair of eyes staring into his neck. "General," he muttered softly before turning to face the Imperial with a salute.

"Forget all that, KaNack," Tullius said, "I'm here the same reason as you, to say goodbye to a good man. For now, the two of us are just friends, so let's leave titles and salutes behind us."

The Argonian relaxed and was relieved to run into a commander like Tullius after such an unpleasant experience with Onmund's family. "I'm not a fan of speeches, but you definitely did Onmund justice." The silver haired Imperial placed a hand on the mage's shoulder. "Onmund was one of the finest men I ever had the honor of swearing into the Imperial Legion. I'm sure both he and Rikke are already getting a tankard of mead in Sovngarde."

"Yeah, that sounds like Onmund," the reptile replied with a sigh.

"KaNack, I know that these deaths spreading across the lands have been awful, but this clearly has hit far too close to home with you." The General stood tall. "By the Eight, I swear to you that I will see to it that every last member of the Dark Brotherhood pays for this with their blood. I will put all my efforts into helping you avenge Onmund."

KaNack was at a loss for words, for this was a gesture that should have given him hope, but instead it was just another strike against his family of assassins.

"We were already on our way to destroying them, General," a voice spoke up from behind.

KaNack turned around and jumped back when he saw he was staring into the dark eyes of Vilkas.

"However, a certain jarl in Riften has made it abundantly clear that mercenaries would only get in the way of the Legion's vast efforts."

This was relieving news to the Dark Brotherhood leader. It seemed that Maven had decided it was in her best interest to protect the Brotherhood. He didn't know what exactly Black-Briar said that could have caused even Vilkas to stand down, but he's learned at this point to never question just was the stubborn female was capable of.

"Smart woman," Tullius remarked. "Yes, we are already scouting the lands trying to find the Black Doors and don't need you disrupting us."

A satisfied smirk formed on Aela's face. "Well, we made your job slightly easier, General. Before our hunt was called off, the Companions did manage to come upon a sanctuary in Whiterun."

KaNack's body stiffened and his eyes widened in horror at the Companion's announcement.

"No doubt my brother's killers came from the Dark Brotherhood's closest hideaway. I am quite certain that this was where the assassin was housed."

"What? Where is the sanctuary?" Tullius asked as he stepped forward. "I'll send my men there right away."

"Don't bother," hissed Vilkas. "The Companions already cleaned it out for you."

"The Black Door was stained red with assassins' blood," confirmed Aela.

The Argonian felt his stomach sink and a powerful surge of fire burning in his gut. His brothers and sisters of the Whiterun Hold could not all be dead. Too many had died already at the hands of the Morag Tong; the other guilds would not have claimed family members already.

"But, the stories say you need a password to enter," KaNack managed to get out, his voice trembling.

"Our hearing is rather good, Argonian," Vilkas explained. "All it took was a lot of searching, a little patience…" a cruel smile formed on the Nord's face, "and a good sharp weapon."

"Dammit, man!" hissed Tullius. "They should have been brought to Solitude to face proper punishment! This is why mercenaries have no place in the Imperial Legion!"

"You have too many boundaries for our liking, General," Aela answered simply as she crossed her arms. "Regardless, the Companions got at least some form of justice for our slain brother. Have fun poking around Skyrim without our assistance."

Vilkas turned his head and saw that KaNack looked pale and about ready to pass out. He stepped forward and clasped the Argonian by the arms.

"I am sorry, friend. I had impatiently mistaken your refusal as a sign of allegiance with the Brotherhood. It is clear how close you were to your friend; no man can fake that kind of love for a brother in arms." He shook his head sadly. "You have no connection to these murdering wretches, I am sure of that now."

KaNack wanted to throw off Vilkas' arms and punch him as hard as he could in his face, but knew that he couldn't. Not in front of Tullius and all these witnesses. He had to simply stand there while the two who murdered his Whiterun family stood before him.

"I am man enough to admit when I am wrong. Allow me to apologize for my…" he coughed, "less than professional behavior. I assure you the next time you come to Whiterun, you will be greeted with kindness from the Companions."

"Clearly, he's still upset over the Nord mage's death. We best leave him be, Vilkas," the red haired Companion stated as she saw the look in the Argonian's eyes.

"Yes. Our condolences, we understand your pain," Vilkas insisted as he released the reptile's arms and took a step back. "Know that even though that Maven had temporarily halted our hunt, we did get to spill our share of assassins' blood." He raised his fist proudly in the air. "Death to the Dark Brotherhood."

The Listener could say nothing but stare at the Companions before him in shock. Vilkas made a gesture with his head for the female Nord to follow him and then started to leave. Aela reached forward and kindly patted KaNack on the arm.

"It was a lovely service. Your friend was a true son of Skyrim and is without a doubt in Sovngarde. May he find everlasting happiness in Shor's realm."

The two Nords then walked off, leaving the Arch Mage and General by themselves.

"Damn mercenaries, thinking that they have the right to play judge, jury and executioner," Tullius growled. "Still, at least that means some of the assassins are dead, and I find that a just reason to celebrate." The Imperial gestured towards the bridge. "Come, friend. Let's share a drink in the honor of our fallen brother in arms. "

KaNack let out a shuddering sigh as he nodded. He needed a stiff drink before returning to the other mages waiting for him in his quarters. The Dark Brotherhood leader had just lost his family in the Whiterun Sanctuary, brothers and sisters that he had trained, visited and laughed with. If he had any hope of being there to comfort his friends at the college, he would first have to mourn for those that were slain needlessly at the hands of a pack of demonic Nords.


	13. Remembering Onmund

The loss of the Whiterun family was horrible and the Argonian was not sure how much more death he could endure in such a short period of time. However, after getting some ale in his system, the Arch Mage felt settled enough to be able to join the rest of his friends in the Hall of Elements. He would have time to properly mourn the assassins later, for now; it was time to embrace the memory of his dearest Nord.

Entering his chambers, the Listener found himself in the familiar surroundings of the quarters that had been handed down to him after the death of Savos. Banners for the College of Winterhold decorated the walls of the chamber, swaying slightly merely from the magical presence residing from inside the room.

The illuminated garden was easily was the mage's favorite part of the quarters. Many different plants and ingredients grew in the small plot, and it made Babette's garden in the sanctuary look like a mere child's work. This garden had been specifically arranged and the flowers and mushrooms that grew decorated the patch so well that the Arch Mage hesitated every time he needed to harvest ingredients from it.

The Argonian's pride and joy, however, was the sleeping sap tree. It always seemed in bloom with beautiful pink and white flowers and had a sweet smell that seemed to help lull him to sleep at night. One of KaNack's top priorities when he left the school was to make sure that his garden was properly tended to. Sithis help the one who allowed the Argonian's garden to wither.

Walking through the chamber, KaNack found the other three mages settled by the fireplace. They were sitting on the floor, not bothering to bring the chairs over. In their sorrow, they couldn't be bothered to move furniture. The Argonian smiled as he saw that they were sharing and passing around an aged bottle of Jazgrape wine. They were all close and did not mind drinking from the same container.

As he approached his friends, the reptile overheard J'Zargo who was in the midst of sharing one of his many memories of Onmund.

"..and J'Zargo said, 'Onmund, this will never work! You will kill yourself'! The Nord was determined though, and damn if he didn't slide himself on that broken mattress all the way down the stairs!" the cat chuckled lightly. "Ah, J'Zargo was sure that he was going to break his neck that day." The Khajiit's tail gently swished along the floor. "Anyway, that was the last time Savos ever asked us to help him remove a few things from his chamber."

The three turned around and gave the Argonian a sad smile as he approached. The Dark Elf gratefully accepted the wine handed to her as the Listener took a seat on the floor next to Brelyna. She took a sip from the bottle before speaking.

"Before KaNack came to the school, Onmund was sweet enough to try and assist me with my alchemy," Brelyna started. "He knew that I was struggling and bound to make a few mistakes, but he was too nice to refuse to help. So one evening, the dear came to the second floor where I was trying my hand at a potion that would temporarily extend one's magicka's threshold " The Dunmer clasped a hand on her mouth as she tried to refrain from laughing. "Oh, it smelled terrible, but Onmund still drank it."

"I think I remember that," Brelas said as she stared into the fire. "Onmund's hair was green for close to a week after that."

"I told him I was sorry!" the Dunmer insisted. "Besides, you told me you thought it made him look cute!"

"I said it made him look like a 'cute cabbage'!"

The four began to laugh as they remembered happier times. It was better than wallowing in misery. There were far more good memories than bad, and they were going to need to embrace them if they were to get through their tragic loss.

Brelas reached out for the bottle, and her Mer friend handed it to her. "Poor Onmund tried to be such a good student, but I wasn't a good influence on him," the Bosmer said. "I was more bored than usual one day and decided to mess with the Restoration instructor, Colette. Oh, my Onmund tried to insist that it was wrong, but after few bats of my opal eyes he was putty in my hands."

The widow smirked. "While I had Onmund distract her by asking for tips on casting, I stole all Colette's notes for the lecture that day." For a moment, the elf got a familiar twinkle in her eyes. "She was so mad afterwards and threw a fit. She blamed Onmund of course." Brelas began to laugh. "It was such a sight to behold! Onmund running through the courtyard with that mad Breton woman pursuing him with a staff of fear, shooting at him and screaming that she was going to make him piss himself." The Wood Elf brushed away a few tears as she smiled at the others. "Dear Onmund, how he put up with my nonsense I'll never know."

"Colette was pretty paranoid after that, insisting that everyone was conspiring against her," Brelyna said to her friend. "The poor woman. I was the only one she trusted after that."

The Wood Elf leaned forward and offered the wine to KaNack. The Argonian accepted it and took a gulp as he tried to come up with a good remembrance of the Nord.

"I think one of my favorite moments with Onmund was actually during the war," the Listener started suddenly. "Brelas and I had collected a Stormcloak's uniform, and Onmund was to deliver false papers in Dawnstar disguised as a rebel." The Arch Mage grinned. "He was bigger than the rest of us, but that armor easily was two sizes too large for him. The helmet kept tipping over his eyes. I remember his words, clear as day. He stared at me from under that ridiculous horned helmet and said…" Passing the bottle of wine to J'Zargo, KaNack held up his hands in frustration and made his voice deeper to emulate Onmund. "'I look like an ass!'"

The mages laughed heartily as they thought back to the sight of Onmund in the absurd Stormcloak armor.

J'Zargo snickered before sipping from the wine and passing it to Brelas. "Yes, he looked like a child playing dress up. The man did not seem to grow in height until after the war." The feline smiled as he twirled his claws around his long black moustache. "It must have been what, five or six inches he grew afterwards?"

"At least," answered Brelas. "That's when he became Winterhold's gentle giant."

"Oh!" exclaimed KaNack as he slapped his face, unable to stop smiling as the Nord's title brought forth another memory. "Remember when we ran into that giant on the way to join the Imperial Legion?"

"Yes!" the Dark Elf cried out as she grasped her husband's hand, a smile on her face as well. "Onmund tried to be all tough for Brelas, and insisted he could take care of it!"

"So he summoned a frost atronach and sent it after the giant," the Argonian chuckled as he held his face in his hands and shook his head. "How many feet in the air did that atronach get sent flying?"

J'Zargo scowled and crossed his arms. "I have no idea, but it landed on J'Zargo's horse." The cat's blue eyes rolled to the ceiling. "We could have just ridden around the damn thing!"

"You're just mad because you had to ride side saddle to the Nord until we got to Solitude," Brelas said, before passing the bottle to her Dunmer friend. "You two looked very handsome together."

"Oh, ha, ha," grumbled the Khajiit.

Brelyna finished the last of the wine and set it down before she got a serious look in her eyes. "Yes, Onmund was kind and he always made us laugh, but nothing changed the fact that he was probably the bravest of us all."

Smiles faded and heads began to solemnly nod.

"He always seemed so shy and quiet, but the war brought forth a side of him I had never seen before," Brelas added as she looked back to the crackling fire. "I think when we were still in the school; we were all under the perception that Savos was there to protect us. Once we left, Onmund knew that we were on our own and took it upon himself to look out for the four of us. I think him being bigger than us made him feel like it was his duty to keep us from harm."

"I never got that vibe from him," J'Zargo said. "He had this Khajiit's back, but never once did he seem like he was hovering." He smiled at her. "I think he was just that way with you, Brelas."

"The man's meekness seemed to vanish when we cleared out our first fort to prove ourselves to Tullius," the Dunmer said quietly. "I had never seen Onmund as mad as he was when that archer shot you, Brelas. I knew he was a Nord, but to witness him using the ancient battle cry, it was something I wasn't too sure he was even capable of. Onmund just snapped."

"That was my Onmund, always so protective. He was as gentle as a kitten, but even he had a dark side," the Bosmer said as she shivered.

"We all do," KaNack remarked bitterly. "He fortunately had a kind heart and did not allow it to consume him."

"J'Zargo never questioned his friend's courage after what he did on our way back to Tullius," the Khajiit stated as he got a frightened look in his eyes. "That Blood dragon swooped down on us from nowhere."

This caused the other three casters to shiver, they had been much younger and the dragon was a terrifying creature to face, even with five trained mages.

"I needed to shoot a powerful chain lightning spell at its head to kill it, but I knew halfway through the charge that it was going to Shout at me before I would be able to cast," the Arch Mage said before he held up his head proudly. "I don't know why I did so, but I called out for a ward. I knew damn well the rest of you were too busy trying to kill it yourselves."

"I didn't even hear you," Brelyna admitted sadly.

"Onmund heard my call," the reptile said gently. "He sprang behind me, held his palms out and cast a ward just before that dovah Shouted. Onmund provided me with the protection and time I needed to finish my spell and strike the beast down." KaNack reached over to gently hold Brelyna's hand. "I might have been killed if my friend hadn't stepped in when he did."

"Nothing seemed to destroy Onmund. Not many can endure the torture of the Bloodworks and still be of sound mind afterwards," the Khajiit remarked as his ears flattened.

All the other became quiet as they thought about what was easily their worst experience during their service to the Imperial Legion. When Onmund had been captured by the Stormcloaks, none of them were been sure that they would get out alive once they went to Windhelm to save him.

"Ulfric thought he could break, Onmund," KaNack growled darkly as his eyes narrowed thinking about the Stormcloak leader. "He thought that just because he was smaller and nothing more than a weak mage that he could get him to betray the Empire's secrets." The Argonian snorted. "The man was not weak. What the jarl failed to realize was that Onmund was a true Nord. Nothing could ever cripple him or his spirit."

"I bet he didn't expect to see the entire Winterhold Five to appear on his doorstep ready to bring his reign to an end," muttered Brelas as she gripped her knee angrily, remembering the invasion of the jarl's city. "Despite what he went through, Onmund returned to Windhelm with us, and together we made sure that Ulfric and his pet rabid ice wolf never hurt anyone ever again."

"Mage beats might," J'Zargo hissed. This caused everyone in the room to nod in agreement.

"He was a loyal companion and I had nothing but love for him," KaNack said. "I've never been a fan of Nords, but I think if everyone could have been like Onmund, Nirn would be a much better place."

"He was always kind and always going out of his way to help others. Onmund always embraced the notion that the apprentices here were our adoptive children," Brelyna added as she looked over at her husband. "That was why you changed it so that it was Onmund who would greet the newcomers at the bridge; so that they felt accepted and welcomed the moment they arrived."

"Onmund had always been my dearest friend. Since the first day the Nord arrived, he endured J'Zargo's ego with good humor. Not many could do such a thing," the cat said as he continued to twirl his mustache. "J'Zargo cannot think back to a time when Onmund did not have this Khajiit's back. We were inseparable as students and that never changed, not even when we were granted higher statuses in the college. Nord and Khajiit, as different as chalk and cheese. Yet, J'Zargo will forever consider Onmund his blood brother."

The mages turned to Brelas, and they could see the despair and hurt returning to the Bosmer's eyes.

"You all know too well what Onmund was to me," she said in a hushed voice. "When we first met, I was not sure what to make of him. I had heard so many stories regarding Nords and their dislike and intolerance of the elf races, so of course I thought it best to avoid him at all cost." She shook her head. "The more I saw him in classes though, the more I become aware that he wasn't like those brutes in Windhelm. Onmund was pleasant and just so excited to finally be in a place where he felt he belonged."

The Bosmer let out a sigh. "It must have been so hard for him; having to leave his home and family behind because they wouldn't accept the fact that their son was born with a special gift of magicka. One does not simply choose to be a mage; he or she must be born with the gifts already existing within. Onmund's parents just could not accept his choice to leave for Winterhold. A Nordic mage? Why is that such a horrible thing to the mighty sons of Skyrim?"

"I am STILL trying to figure them out," KaNack insisted. "Some are pleasant while others are just insane. Believe me; I know my way around lunatics, and some of these Nords still give me trouble."

"Realizing that Onmund wasn't just some elf-hater, I decided to try and become friends with him. It was much easier than I thought it was going to be." She rested her chin in her hand as she once again stared into the fire. "He was sweet, but more like in a big brother kind of way. I was always teasing him by flirting with him, knowing that it made him blush and shy away." A sad smile crept up her face. "He had always been so bashful, it was quite endearing," she laughed. "Then finally my flirting went a little too far at the Frozen Hearth, and instead of him shying away when I pretended to try and kiss him, he grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed his lips to mine."

The Bosmer looked at the others; unshed tears making her eyes shimmer. "You all were there when it happened; you know that I practically tackled the Nord to the floor afterwards and showed him what a REAL kiss was."

"You were shameless," Brelyna said with a grin.

"You were dominating the Nord," laughed KaNack.

"You were quite drunk," J'Zargo chuckled.

"I was in love," Brelas corrected. "Onmund was the best thing that had ever happened to me in my fifty years of existence. He was never cross, never cruel and we never even quarreled over the petty things like others do in relationships." She turned and grinned over at Brelyna who was now leaning against her husband.

"Why are you staring at us when you say that?" Brelyna asked as she raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"I have to say, Onmund's proposal to me wasn't exactly the most romantic, but honestly, he could have asked me to marry him in the middle of a swamp and I still would have said 'yes'." The Wood Elf held up her hand and began to gently turn the ring on her finger. "I can see Onmund now, in the Temple of Mara. He looked so handsome in those red and white robes, his hair in those two sweet braids that I was always playing with," she said, recalling her wedding day. "Usually it was the bride who blushed, not the groom. Onmund was so red in the face that I thought he was going to pass out before we got to our vows."

"It didn't help that we had been filling our gullets with ale the previous night," KaNack said as he shot J'Zargo a look.

"Don't blame the Khajiit! J'Zargo was settling his friend's nerves!"

"J'Zargo, you have NO idea what I had to deal with after that night! Thank goodness I still had my horse and was able to make it to the wedding in time! It wasn't until afterwards that I had to go out and fix the mess YOU caused!"

"What? Last J'Zargo remembers was convincing you to accept the drinking challenge with that strange man. You seemed to be having a great time!"

"Sam?! You don't even….!" KaNack made a motion as though he wanted to strangle the Khajiit. He forced himself to calm down, but was pleased to hear that Brelas was laughing from their banter. "Someday, J'Zargo, I will have to regale you with the tale of my adventures with 'Sam'."

"Bah!" the cat gave the reptile a dismissive wave.

"I am glad you were able to make it in time, KaNack. It was a lovely service." She then lowered her head sadly. "I got to have eight glorious years with the man I loved. They were wonderful. We laughed, we cried and to the very end, we still adored each other as much as we did the day he kissed me in the Frozen Hearth. He also blessed me with the greatest gift of all. I have little Brond who is a spitting image of his father."

The Wood Elf was speaking of the half-elf toddler who was staying with her parents until she had gotten over the tragic loss of her husband. There were going to be plenty of hard times ahead when she would have to sit the boy down and explain to him why he wasn't going to see 'Daddy' anymore.

Brelyna shifted away from KaNack and made her way over to her friend and wrapped her arms around her. "I just miss him so much, Brelyna," she choked out. "It's not fair. Onmund never did anything wrong in his life. Why would the Dark Brotherhood take him so cruelly? What of Brond? He's going to grow up without a father."

KaNack's teeth clenched as he held his head down shamefully.

"It is J'Zargo's fault," the Khajiit muttered quietly. "When the Arch Mage is away, it is my duty to keep everyone in this school safe." The feline's ears flattened as he squeezed his eyes shut. "J'Zargo failed the college. J'Zargo failed Onmund."

"I won't have you blaming yourself for this, J'Zargo," the Argonian hissed quietly. "There are spiteful and heartless people at work here. They don't care who gets hurt so long as it gets a reaction." He grabbed his feathered hair in a tight fist. "I lost my protégé as well as Onmund."

The mage's eyes glowed white slightly as he felt his inner fire growing hotter and his Dark Brotherhood side was beginning to reveal its ugly head.

"I will hunt down whoever did this, and I will make their death slow. It will be painful, lingering, and they will learn the true meaning of the word 'suffering'." His teeth bore in a snarl. "I will laugh in glee as my eardrums are rattled by their piercing screams of pain, and before I am through with them, they will be begging me for death. I will only kill them though, when I am sure they feel the same pain as us...and then some"

The other three mages stared at the Arch Mage, slightly frightened by the look in his eyes and his sudden dark personality.

"By the Eight, what has taken over you?" the Khajiit asked as his fur stood on end, the Argonian's torturous promise chilling him to the bone.

"KaNack," Brelyna whispered in a concerned tone. "I know you are upset, but please, you aren't like the Dark Brotherhood. You aren't a monster."

Brelyna's words hit him hard and the Argonian hissed as he got a hold of himself. He shook his head and looked at his wife sadly. "No," he answered softly. "I'm not a monster."

"KaNack, given the certain events, J'Zargo thinks it would be best if you took your other protégé back with you," the Khajiit said. "Losing his friend has hurt the kit badly, and this school might be too painful a reminder of her death for the time being."

The Argonian grumbled deep in his throat. He had been so focused on Shaleez and Onmund that he completely forgot that Dro'marash was still lingering around the college. He had given his assassin the orders to protect his friends, but after what happened to Shaleez, he realized that nothing he could do would make a difference. Best to bring his brother home where his skills could be put to better use.

"Yes, I will let him know that he is to accompany me and I will make sure he gets back to his home safely." The Arch Mage looked to Brelyna. "Love, do not leave here unless you are once again accompanied by Tullius and his men. I am not going to take any chances of harm befalling you."

"Why do you not let your wife come with you?" J'Zargo asked. "Not that I doubt Tullius, but you are a true guardian."

"Because, J'Zargo," KaNack growled in a deep voice, "where I am going is dangerous. I am going to find these murderers…and end their miserable lives. Until this threat plaguing Skyrim is put to a stop, no one around me is safe."


	14. My Mathieu Bellamont

Every single brother and sister in the Dark Brotherhood found themselves lingering in the main chamber of the sanctuary for one reason or another. Perhaps with the absence of the Listener and the constant threat of an outside guild attacking, subconsciously they all felt much safer if they remained together.

They didn't speak a work, but busied themselves with mindless tasks. Cicero even held his tongue, even though he felt it was far too quiet for his liking. He didn't like the silence; it reminded him of his horrid period of isolation in Cyrodiil. The only thing keeping the jester from barking his head off was the peace of mind that he could see all the members of his extended family. Their presence was enough to comfort him.

Everyone in the Dawnstar sanctuary stirred when they heard the loud slamming of the Black Door echo through the chamber. The first to make his appearance was Dro'marash. The cat padded his way down the short stairwell and his normally bright orange eyes seemed dull. He was still in mourning from the loss of his sister in Winterhold.

Kaie was rushed towards him and pulled the Khajiit into a tight embrace. They had lost Shaleez, but at least their brother was still alive. Vytalas slowly made his way over and held both the Breton and feline close. All four of the assassins had grown up together as initiates and their bond was stronger than that of most blood relatives. With their Argonian sister gone, the three were going to need to rely on one another to get through the rough patches ahead.

While the three Dark Brotherhood members tried to console each other, the older residents of the sanctuary remained silent and kept to themselves.

Nazir was pretending to be involved in his stew, Babette was grinding some fire salts with her pestle, Lachance was sulking off in a dark corner and Cicero stared expectantly at the entranceway, anxious for the appearance of the Listener.

The Black Hand leader briskly made his way down the stairs, his rush coming to an abrupt stop once he reached the bottom. His head was hung low and he was still wearing the Arch Mage robes, not bothering to change back into his Dark Brotherhood shrouds before entering.

"Listener!" Cicero exclaimed as he started towards his friend. "Welcome home."

The Keeper took a quick step back and the smile lifted from his lips when he saw the unpleasant expression fixated on the Argonian. KaNack's face was frozen in a grimace and his eyes were illuminating a bright white in the dim light of the sanctuary.

"Meeting room," the Listener growled suddenly.

"Pardon?" Babette asked, looking up from her work.

"Meeting room…NOW!" the reptile roared pointing furiously towards the tunnel that led to their council chamber.

Everyone could not scramble from the main chamber fast enough…everyone except for the Spectral Assassin. The ghost gave the mage an unimpressed look as he slowly approached him.

"Taking your anger out on them won't bring Shaleez back, Listener," the spirit explained stiffly. The caster shot Lucien a dark look before storming past him, not responding to the observation. Lucien patiently trailed behind the furious Argonian as they made their way through the familiar tunnels.

Everyone was already settled in their respective seats. Kaie and Dro'marash seemed to shrink in size when they saw their leader appear. They had witnessed firsthand just how dangerous the mage was when he allowed emotion to consume him and feared to even make eye contact with him.

KaNack gradually made his way over to his side of the table where Cicero was patiently waiting, his hands clasped tightly together. The Listener took his seat and his dark look scanned over every face at the table making everyone all the more uncomfortable.

"Someone," KaNack uttered darkly breaking the silence, "give me good news."

The Redguard cleared his throat, causing the Black Hand leader to turn to him.

"Well, we received a message from Brynjolf. One of his thieves spotted a young female Dunmer meeting with an Argonian and a Redguard just outside of Ivarstead," Nazir started. "They were acting suspicious and the man thought it best to report it back to his Guild."

"Ivarstead?" the Argonian said as he rested his chin on his clenched hands. "There is nothing there but…"His eyes narrowed. "If those Morag Tong think they can kill a Greybeard, we might not have to worry about destroying them ourselves." A cruel smile formed on his lips. "Arngrier could shatter them to pieces with one Shout."

"This concerns me," Lucien stated quietly. "If that female Dunmer is Dinya, that means that there are more than just elves making up the Morag Tong." The spirit turned to stare at his caster. "Diversity always plays an important role when forming an effective faction of killers, as you know all too well, Listener."

"Dro did have an encounter with that Orc that turned out to be a werewolf," the Khajiit started suddenly. "He had a personal interest in destroying me once he discovered I was a follower of Sithis."

"A werewolf executioner?" the reptile hissed as his brows furrowed. "He just might be the one who was behind the slaying of Farkas." The mages eyes squeezed shut as he thought about the Whiterun Sanctuary. The brothers and sisters in Dawnstar had already dealt with enough loss, it was best to keep this news quiet until they recovered from Shaleez's death.

"What of the Companions?" the Redguard asked suddenly. "Last I heard they were still on the hunt for us."

"Maven Black-Briar was gracious enough to give the Brotherhood a brief reprieve from the mercenaries of Jorrvaskr's hounding. Tullius and the Legion are still after us, but he won't question anyone who rides with me." The reptile's eyes widened. "With the death of Onmund, however, J'Zargo is leading a group of some of the best apprentices in the school in an attempt to avenge our friend. The Khajiit is a close ally of mine, but he will not hesitate to strike down any whom he might suspect of being a member of this family."

"So, we no longer have to worry about the Companions, but now the College of Winterhold is after us?" Babette asked with a sigh. "It's only a matter of time before we find ourselves found out and surrounded." The Unchild gave her leader a look of concern. "Even your charm won't be able to save you if they find out who you really are, KaNack."

"I am not concerned," the reptile answered. "These are my friends, and I will not fear them. My only concern right now is Othrelos and his bloody executioners." KaNack slowly rose from his seat and looked angrily at the Dark Brotherhood members surrounding him.

"The Morag Tong decided to take my adoptive daughter away from me. If this Dark Elf in Ivarstead is in fact Dinya, I am going to make damn sure to repay the favor to that warlock." The Argonian pointed a claw at the Khajiit. "Dro, what is the deadliest poison you have?"

The cat's ears pricked up as he stared at his leader. "Dro…Dro's poisons? Why do you want Dro's…?"

"Dammit, Dro! Do you have something that can kill someone in one strike?!" the mage snarled.

"Yes! Yes of course, Listener! Dro has a very potent and toxic poison! It almost rivals the Jarrin Root!"

"Get it!" KaNack ordered as he took his seat.

The cat got up from his seat and quickly sped out the exit. Babette looked after her protégé in concern before turning to the Black Hand leader.

"I am hoping that you have a plan to back up all of your barking," the vampires hissed, not very pleased with the Argonian's attitude.

"Plan?" the Listener asked. "My plan is to find the Dunmer bitch, stun her with a Shout and poison her before she can kill anyone else. I am not taking any more chances with these executioners. I want to kill them as quickly as possible." He pulled out the Blade of Woe and ran a claw along the blade. "I don't usually like to work outside the realms of magic, but I know just how effective a poisoned weapon can be."

"The Listener is referring to Maro?" Cicero asked as he stared at the dangerous blade in the reptile's hands.

"The tactic was good enough to almost kill me; it should be good enough to kill the Morag Tong." KaNack sheathed his blade. "Maybe even Othrelos if I can get close enough."

"You worry me," Lachance remarked quietly, causing the mage to turn to him. "In all the years you have led this sanctuary, I have only seen you use that blade on three occasions," the spirit remarked. "Are you sure that this is the weapon of choice to be used when you once again face this man?"

A grumbled rumbled in the mage's throat, but he knew that the specter had a valid point. Othrelos was dangerous and getting too close could easily lead to a quick death. "You may be right, Buddy. I should have followed your advice and perfected my training in melee fighting. However, I still think that poisoning is going to be the only way to take down the Morag Tong leader."

Scrambling through the entrance, the feline alchemist rushed towards the Argonian grasping a dark red potion bottle. Dro took a few moments to catch his breath before he leaned over and tenderly placed the poison on the table.

"A teaspoon of that would drop a mammoth in fifteen seconds," the Khajiit announced proudly. "You want a person dead? This is the best Dro has to offer!"

The Listener reached forward and grabbed the bottle and began to stare at it intently. Khajiits were known for their boasting, but in Dro'marash's case, KaNack knew better than to doubt his alchemist's abilities in the art of poison.

The mage's pale eyes lit up suddenly and he turned to once again face his spiritual guardian. "Lucien, what you did to me in the training chamber has now inspired me," he announced. "You're right, I might not be able to get close enough to strike Othrelos with the Blade of Woe, but I am willing to bet a coated arrow tip could take that warlock down permanently."

"I've yet to meet the man who can outrun one of my projectiles," Vytalas stated as he rose from his seat. The archer's red eyes narrowed as he gave a stern nod of his head towards his leader. "Give the word, and you will have my bow, Listener."

"The boy's confidence has been shaky at best recently," Lachance hissed into the mage's ear. "Are you sure you want to entrust this task with him against such a dangerous opponent?"

"You can't fire his bow for him forever, Lucien," the reptile whispered back. "He won't ever recover if we never give him the chance to prove himself once again." The Dark Brotherhood leader nodded his head to the archer. "Very well, Vytalas. When the time comes to once again face Othrelos, I will ensure the task of his bitter end to you." A wicked smile kept up his scaly face. "Make him regret leaving you alive."

KaNack left his seat and began to pace in front of the long table. "I wish to look into Ivarstead. If whom the thief saw was Dinya, I will recognize her. I could never forget her face," the mage muttered. "It was branded into my subconscious the moment she disrespected Fetus' grave." The Listener brought his pacing to a halt and stared at his family. "The Dunmer is not stable in the head and bound to make a few mistakes. Killing her should not prove to be too difficult without her bastard of a father watching over her."

Lachance rose from his seat and stormed over to the Argonian to hiss in his ear. "Don't underestimate your enemy, child," the Spectral Assassin warned him. "She may not be a mage like Othrelos, but she is still dangerous. If you do manage to find this Dark Elf in Ivarstead, she will not be alone."

"Neither shall I." The Dark Brotherhood leader scanned the faces of everyone at the table before looking back at the ghost. "I see at least four other assassins present, and I am willing to bet that Vy has been itching to shed some Morag Tong Blood."

The Listener pointed a clawed finger at his brothers and sisters. "There is the possibility of at least two other Morag Tong executioners accompanying Dinya. I know that Lucien is with me, who else is willing to avenge their sister's death?"

Every single person at the table stood up at once and had a look of desperation in their eyes. They may be ready to kill in the name of Sithis, but this desire to end life went beyond mere servitude to their deity. It had become personal and they needed at least one of the Morag Tong to die before they could even start to recover from Shaleez's death.

A smirk crawled up the Black Hand leader's face. "Alright, Vy and Kaie, you are coming with me. Babette, I want you and Dro'marash to start working on a fresh batch of this poison. I want to make sure that we have plenty in stock."

"As you wish," the vampire said with a shrug. "I just hope you don't end up getting yourself killed."

"It won't happen," KaNack laughed. "With Buddy by my side, no one could ever kill me!"

"So sure of that, are you?" the ghost remarked bitterly before he turned and left the room. KaNack was surprised by his spirit's resentment and wasn't about to let it go.

"Prepare for travel," the mage said as he looked over his shoulder to the Breton and Dunmer. "We're leaving tonight."

The meeting over, the Argonian hurried through the tunnel to catch up with the slow pace of Lachance. The Listener scowled at him as he walked alongside the Spectral Assassin.

"I know you might be getting a little tired of pulling my ass out of the fire, Lucien. Was that comment really necessary, however?"

"You're not invincible, KaNack," the specter grumbled out. "I might not always be there to look out for you and there are vast amount of people out there, aside from the Morag Tong, who want nothing more than to see you dead."

"I'm a Legate in Tullius' army," the reptile announced proudly. "I am Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold. Nothing can change that fact."

"It matters not, they will kill you," Lachance stated rather callously as he shot KaNack a dark look. "Years of loyalty and devotion will mean nothing to them. Even your closest allies will see you as nothing more than the bloodthirsty leader of the Dark Brotherhood, and they will make you suffer for it."

The Listener locked eyes with the Spectral Assassin. "Are you referring to Applewatch, Lucien?" the mage asked quietly. This made the spirit scowl at the Argonian. "These aren't people whom embrace death the way we do. They are different from the Black Hand."

"Fool," the ghost growled at him. "You think this would be any different? As far as they are concerned, you killed Farkas, you killed Legate Rikke and you killed Onmund. Stop thinking that you are so flawless; you'd be horrified to find out just how many of your friends would turn on you if they knew who you really were." Lachance turned away, but his jaw was clenched tightly. "The only people you can trust are in this sanctuary and that's more than I had when I was still alive."

"So, the Morag Tong is my Mathieu Bellamont then?" the mage asked. "You think I am doomed to follow in your footsteps?"

"I fear that you do not fully comprehend just what is happening outside the safety of this sanctuary," Lachance grumbled. "Just believe me when I say you need to be more careful." The ghost once again began to walk down the tunnel.

"Don't speak to me as though I were a child!" the reptile barked after him.

"Then stop acting like one!" Lachance shouted as he spun around to glare at the Listener. "You are allowing yourself to get wound up with emotion and are making sudden and rash decisions because of it. How much thought did you really put into this plan to kill Dinya in Ivarstead?"

KaNack was about to answer when the ghost started to walk off again.

"None; as to be expected when you're upset. I just pray that someone else doesn't get killed because of it."

The Listener's lip curled up into a snarl and he charged forward and spun the spirit around roughly by the shoulder.

"You think Shaleez's death is not going to haunt me for the rest of my days?" he spat furiously. "I am doing my damnedest to keep from falling to pieces, Lachance! People are dying all around us! We don't have time to think over every little detail!"

"I understand that you didn't mean for your protégé to get killed," the ghost answered coldly. "When you make rash decisions, however, incidents can and will happen. I never sent any of my Cheydinhal family members out unless I truly comprehended what they were going up against! A true leader always considers his brothers and sisters safety first! That is why, just like you, they trusted me!"

"Yes, I guess that's why they didn't see it coming when your Silencer killed them all in the dead of night. Of course, unlike the others, that was not Bellamont's doing…was it Lachance?"

The Spectral Assassin's eyes widened with fury and his fist sprang forward connected right with the Argonian's temple sending the mage staggering backwards.

"You little bastard," the spirit growled darkly. "All these years I've done nothing but do my best to serve you and you dare speak to me in such a way?!"

KaNack rubbed at his head, but when he turned to look at Lucien, there was no anger in his eyes. "You're right," he started quietly. "I shouldn't have said that to you." The reptile leaned against the wall of the tunnel before continuing. "Actions can be deafening; but words can be eternal. I have been struck many times over the years, Lucien. This bruise on my head?" KaNack gestured to it. "It will heal and go away in a few days. However, I have no idea how long it will take for you to recover from the sting of my words."

The mage's head lowered. "It hurt so much to lose Festus, Veezara and the others. The pain of losing Shaleez and Onmund was even worse." He stared at the ghost with frightened eyes. "I feel like I'm about to explode because of all this pent up energy building in my gut. I need to lash out, but everyone is expecting me to keep calm and defeat the Morag Tong. Othrelos and his executioners are killing too quickly and they are spread about Skyrim."

The mage slid to the floor. "My friend Onmund's funeral was less than twenty-four hours ago, yet I know that if I don't do something soon, someone else is going to die. The people in this sanctuary are turning to me looking for answers." KaNack's eyes narrowed. "You know damn well that I don't have all the answers. I'm doing the best I can while also fighting to keep my emotions from overtaking me." He smacked his head hard across the back of the wall before looking at the Spectral Assassin sadly. "How were you able to do it, Lachance? How were you able to remain so strong even when you lost everyone?"

"I was much older than you when that tragic event took place," the spirit said solemnly. "Death seemed almost second nature to me. One cannot be in our line of work if death affects them so negatively. I was merely doing what I thought was the will of Sithis, and that definitely helped me get through it. I had faith that my deity would not lead me astray."

The Listener slid to the side as the spirit made his way over and sat down next to him. "It hurt to lose Vincente and the others, but I knew that I would see them again in the Void. That made it a little easier to get through it." The mage let out a soft groan as Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are right though, this is your 'Mathieu Bellamont'. If the followers of Sithis aren't cleared for the crimes of the Morag Tong, it will only be a matter of time before you have to experience your own Applewatch."

"I don't think I'm ready."

"No one is ever ready, child. How can one possibly prepare for the worst? I am not going to be as arrogant as the jester and claim everything will work out; the truth is I don't know what fate is going to befall any of us. Whatever happens though, at least be sure to do your best and not be afraid to die."

"I'm not afraid to die," the mage said softly. "I'm afraid to die alone." KaNack turned to stare at the ghost. "When I called you to that tower in Solitude when I had been betrayed by Astrid, I was so scared that I was going to die with no one around who cared about me. I'm always braver when I'm with a friend. The thought of dying alone?" He shuddered. "I just don't think I could have been as strong as you were in that farmhouse. I don't want to die alone, Lucien. I don't want to die scared."

"We were bonded together through the Void, Listener," Lachance said quietly. "I swear to you, so long as I can return to the plane of Tamriel, you won't ever have to die alone."

KaNack head lowered shamefully. "I'm sorry for what I said, Lucien. I never would have gotten this far without you helping me along the way."

"Words can sting, as you said," the spirit said gently. "Fortunately though, they can heal as well. Let's just try and put this bitter matter behind us. " The Dark Brotherhood spirit stood up and offered the Listener his hand. "Come now; let's see if we can't send one of the Morag Tong's souls to the Void."

A small smirk crawled up KaNack's face as he grasped the transparent hand. "All hail Sithis."


	15. Showdown on the Seven Thousand Steps

The Argonian had been adamant on not allowing any of the family members to wear Dark Brotherhood garb outside of the sanctuary, so they were not hassled or even questioned as they traveled to Ivarstead. Vytalas and Kaie were happy enough traveling in plain black shrouds and Lucien's Speaker robes were unrecognizable in his spectral form. The Listener traveled in his Arch Mage robes, as he wanted to make sure that all of his allies would not hassle him or his traveling companions if they crossed paths.

The sun had set by the time KaNack and his assassins arrived in the small, quiet town of Ivarstead. The residents were already in bed and only a few guards were present, making their rounds and politely greeting the riders.

"Evening, Dragonborn," one announced as he held up a hand in greeting. "What brings you to Ivarstead at this hour?"

"We are seeking a female Dark Elf who may be traveling with companions," the Argonian answered simply. "Has she been here?"

"Oh, aye!" the other guard answered. "Fool of a Mer took off to the Seven Thousand Steps not too long ago. We tried to tell her that it was dangerous, but she wouldn't listen to reason."

The Dark Brotherhood leader frowned at this news. He did not think that the Morag Tong had the abilities to kill one Greybeard, even with more than executioner. However, his identity as the Dark Brotherhood leader could be exposed if Othrelos' followers were allowed to make it to the top of High Hrothgar.

The reptile dismounted from Shadowmere and handed the reins to the guards. "Take our steeds to the stables; we don't have time to waste."

"Is there treachery afoot, Dragonborn?" the guard asked as he took the reins.

"The worst kind." He turned to his brothers and sister. "They are already on their way! Let's move!"

The three dismounted as well and took off into a dash to keep up with their leader who was now racing towards the bridge. Vytalas looked at the Spectral Assassin as he ran alongside him.

"Have you ever climbed the steps of High Hrothgar?"

"Many times."

"And?"

"Be grateful if you aren't vomiting by the time you reach the four thousandth step."

KaNack cast candlelight as he began to ascend the first of the many stairs that wound around the steep mountain. He still wasn't positive if this Dark Elf was Dinya, but if she was he did not have time to spare. He peered over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure that his friends were keeping up with him, the road to the Greybeards was not easy for anyone to take. The Argonian hoped that would play in his favor in catching up with the elf and her companions.

With the archer and Breton lingering in the back, Lachance hurried his pace so that he was beside his caster.

"I cannot believe that the Morag Tong might actually be attempting to try and execute one of the Greybeards," KaNack hissed. "There is not one man in that temple that couldn't destroy them merely by opening their mouths."

"We still do not know if this is them or not, Listener," Lucien insisted. "It is possible that these are mere travelers. The Seven Thousands Steps is a pilgrimage that many take in Skyrim."

"Normal travelers would not take this treacherous path this late at night," the mage growled. "There are wraiths, frost trolls and snow bears prowling these mountains."

"What was that about frost trolls?!" Kaie called from the back.

The Argonian slowed his pace up the stairs, trying to maintain his stamina. It would be no good if he came upon the Morag Tong winded. He cast candlelight again and kept close to the mountain face, and paused when he saw one of the etched tablets to the side. Upon closer inspection he spotted an apple core and a few bones.

"Someone had rested here for a quick breather and a meal," the Brotherhood leader said quietly as he turned to his spiritual guide. Lachance was nodding his head in confirmation.

"A few by the looks of it," the ghost observed, noticing the many different footsteps embedded in the fresh snow. "It might belong to the night travelers. We best approach with precaution so as to not alert our presence."

KaNack agreed and deactivated his candlelight spell before continuing forward.

Kaie huddled close to Vytalas; the further they traveled up High Hrothgar, the colder it became. The Dunmer wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as they got further up.

"This Dinya," she started quietly. "You said that she was the one who…?"

"Shamed me?" the Mer answered simply. "Yes. Sithis knows what they did with the ear afterwards; I know they took it with them." He then growled darkly. "That Dunmer is crazy, I wouldn't be surprised if she turned it into some kind of necklace."

"We'll make sure she pays for it, Vy," Kaie stated as she gave her lover a reassuring pat on his chest. "She'll be sent to the Void where she will endure eternal suffering for her actions."

The two younger assassins paused when they saw that both their leader and the Dark Brotherhood spirit came to a halt. The Argonian was peering around a large rock formation and made a motion with his hands for them to come forth.

The Dark Elf and Breton hurried forward and crouched behind their elders.

"Look," KaNack whispered to them.

Vytalas peeked over Lachance's shoulder and saw in the distance was a male Argonian and female Redguard huddled before another one of the etched tablets. They appeared to be in the midst of a meditation.

"Huh," the elf muttered quietly. "Maybe they were just travelers."

"There was supposed to be a Dark Elf with them," the Listener stated with a shake of his head. "I don't see one with them." His eyes narrowed. "It seems suspicious to me still."

"We aren't going to shoot two people who are simply meditating," Kaie whispered to her leader. "Are we?"

"Stay here," the mage ordered. He pulled a small white potion bottle from his satchel and quickly downed the contents. A few moments passed and the Dark Brotherhood leader vanished from sight. "I'm going to get a closer look at these two."

The three assassins kept an eye on the indentations of the snow as the invisible reptile prowled forward. The only sign that would alert anyone to the Listener's presence would be if they focused on the small footsteps imprinting into the ground.

KaNack continued to approach until he was about five feet away from the Redguard and his fellow Argonian and could see them a little better under the two moons' light. The woman appeared to be in her thirties and her face was plain, save for a small scar on her cheek. Attached to her back was a sturdy looking steel shield. Obviously the woman had dealt with her fair share of battle. She was wearing a long black cloak to help keep herself warm from the biting chill of the Hrothgar winds.

The Argonian next to her looked to be about ten years older than the Listener. He was adorned in black and red armor, but it did not look like the Dark Brotherhood's; it was unfamiliar. Possibly the Morag Tong, but KaNack did not know the executioners guild well enough to be sure. The reptile's scales seemed to have a blue tint to them, and he had an impressive set of small curved horns that sprouted everywhere from his brow to the back of his head. He could hear them speaking to each other in hushed voices.

"I'm freezing my tail off," the Argonian grumbled. "How much longer do we have to sit like this?"

"Until we're told otherwise, Beem-Ja," the woman replied stiffly. "Now shut up."

"You shut up, Adara," he hissed back.

"No, you shut up."

If one could see KaNack, they'd be able to see his eyes roll to the back of his head. As playful as he was with his family of assassins, none of them were as unprofessional as this. These two couldn't possibly be a part of the deadly Morag Tong. The mage was about to return to the others to let them know that he didn't think the strangers were a part of Othrelos' faction, when he felt something sharp piece into his torso.

The Argonian screeched in pain and the sudden surge of adrenaline caused the effects of the potion to wear off. The Listener raced forward and dove over the large rock formation where he heard the ping of an arrow ricochet off the stone.

"Listener!" Kaie exclaimed, seeing the horrible daedric arrow piercing in his side.

"Dammit! If I could have seen you better, I would have made that a kill shot!" Dinya had decided to finally make her presence known with an attempt to destroy the Listener. "You can only adjust so much when all you have to work with is imprinted snow!"

"What in Oblivion?! He was right behind us?!" Beem-Ja shouted as both he and the Redguard drew their swords. "Dinya! When were you going to say something?!"

Lachance peered around the rock furiously as he saw the female Dunmer walk over to the other members of the Morag Tong.

"Sorry, Beemy, but I needed bait to fish them out. I saw them coming in the distance, and I knew they wouldn't be able to resist you two."

"Well, aren't you a dear?" Adara muttered as she scowled at the large rock face that was separating them from the Dark Brotherhood. "How many did you say there were?"

"Three assassins and a pet," Dinya answered simply as she pulled another arrow from her quiver. The executioner smirked as her red eyes gleamed evilly towards the rocks. "How does the pierce of a daedric arrow feel, KaNack?" she called out to him.

"By Sithis," the Listener muttered painfully as he allowed Vytalas to slowly pull the arrow out. "The Morag Tong aren't afraid to use rare weaponry, I'll grant them that."

"Come out and face the Morag Tong, Brotherhood!" the Argonian executioner demanded as he held out his sword threateningly. "We shall end you right here on this mountain!"

"We step out there and we'll be pelted by one of the elf's arrows," Vytalas hissed as he crawled over so that he was settled next to the Spectral Assassin. "Those projectiles are not something to take lightly."

The Dark Brotherhood leader's lips curled up in a snarl as he began to cast a healing spell on his wound. "Oh, I got something special planned for them. Just give me a few minutes to recover."

Vytalas nodded his head and looked to Lucien. "Think you can summon up that wicked bow of yours, Lachance?"

The ghost held out his hand, and the spectral weapon appeared in it. "We'll try and hold them back as long as we can, Listener," the spirit said quietly to his caster.

Back at the etched tablet, the Redguard let out an annoyed huff as she got out of her fighting stance to glare at the Dunmer. "They aren't coming. They're too scared of your bow."

"Good, they have every reason to be," she smirked as she aimed her daedric weapon and began to slowly approach the formation. "I think I'll kill his blue dog first."

Both the spirit and Vytalas arched from around the rocks and shot their arrows directly at the Dunmer. Dinya cursed as she tumbled out of the way of the attacks and fired her weapon back up at them, causing the two to retreat back behind their stony shield.

"I thought that was you traveling in the pack of assassins!" Dinya laughed. "Is that the best you can do, sweetie? Did losing an ear throw off your aim?"

Vytalas snarled furiously as he pulled another ebony arrow from his quiver. "By Sithis, I HATE that Mer!"

Kaie lurked forward and peeked around the rock to see the Morag Tong. Dinya had her bow aimed, biding her time. She could wait as long as necessary to get her next shot in.

"Did you really think you could kill one of the Greybeards?" Kaie called down to her angrily. "They would destroy you before you could even draw a weapon! We desire the privilege of ending your miserable lives though! That is the only way you can be sent to the Void to suffer for the pain you've caused this land!"

"Is that your girlfriend, sweetie?" Dinya asked with a grin. "Don't tell me you're still with that pathetic little mouse! You belong with a Dark Elf! One of your own kind!"

"Dinya, are you seriously flirting?! I'm tired of standing off to the side! Let's just kill them!" Beem-Ja snarled before launching himself towards the rock formation, his ebony sword grasped tightly in his claws. "I will have a Sithis follower's head as my trophy!"

"You stupid lizard! Wait! Their leader can still…!"

The Argonian leaped over the rock and a wicked smile crossed his face as he stared at the four assassins before him. His eyes locked with the Listener who was still healing his wound. "Time to die, cousin!"

"You took the words right out of my mouth," KaNack growled darkly. He then sucked in a deep breath. "FUS RO DAH!"

The force of the Shout threw the Morag Tong back over the side of the path and the scaled executioner began to tumble down the side of the mountain. The assassin could hear the reptile's cries of pain as he fell further and further down.

Hearing the commotion, the Redguard turned to face Dinya. "Is he dead?" she asked.

"Who cares?" the Dunmer snorted. "Now we know he can't Shout again for at least a few minutes. Let's move! Cover the dog and Mer's fire!"

Adara moved in front of Dinya and held her shield up before them as they gradually began to approach the Dark Brotherhood's hiding spot.

KaNack finished healing himself and his eyes glowed a bright white in anger. "Okay, I'm sick of these damned executioners." He pulled the bottle of poison that Dro'marash had given him and handed it to Vytalas. "Start dipping arrows, Vy. I'm going to give these two a diversion they'll never forget."

The Listener turned around and his hand began to glow a deep blue. "All right, you damn Dunmer! I have someone I'd like you to meet!"

"Is it another pet?" she laughed as she remained behind Adara and her shield, grasping her daedric bow tightly.

Dinya paused as she saw a ball of blue light shoot from above the rocks and crash into the snow behind her. From the impact a huge frost thrall arose from it and crashed its mighty arms together.

"Dinya!" the Listener exclaimed. "Meet Brock!"

The frost thrall charged towards the Morag Tong, its huge arms spreading out to ready a swing.

"Brock?!" Adara exclaimed as she turned her head to see what was causing all the racket. The Redguard's eyes widened when she saw Brock charging directly at them. "Dinya! Shoot it! Shoot it quick! Kill it!"

The Morag Tong archer quickly aimed her bow and shot the daedric arrow at the frost thrall. The impact caused Brock to stagger for just a moment. The thrall then recovered and charged once more at the two. The archer pulled out another arrow and once again shot the conjuration. Once again it staggered and once again it charged at them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dinya hissed as her eyes widened in shock.

"That's the thing about Brock, Dinya!" the Argonian shouted from behind the rocks. "He does not go down easily."

"Adara, split!" the female Dunmer shouted.

The two Morag Tong dove into different directions as the thrall reached them and slammed its arm down onto the ground hard. The thrall turned around and focused its attention on the Dark Elf who was struggling to prepare another arrow to shoot.

KaNack rose from behind the rock face and began to make his wall down to the Morag Tong, his eyes glowing and his fists crackling with electricity. The other three assassins followed close behind with Vytalas now drawing a most deadly ebony arrow.

Adara charged at the Dark Brotherhood, her shield gripped in one hand and her sword in the other. Kaie ducked the Redguard's strike and swung her leg around, knocking the Morag Tong off her feet. The Breton pounced onto the older woman and pressed her blade to her throat.

"Stay down," she growled at her threateningly.

Dinya managed to get the second shot of her bow out just as the large thrall was about to slam his hammer-like arm down upon her. Receiving such a devastating strike, Brock shattered into a pile of frozen ash before her.

"Put the bow down, Dinya," KaNack ordered in a stiff voice.

The Dark Elf stared at him and saw that both Lucien and Vytalas had their bows drawn and aimed right at her. The Listener's hands crackled with a charged chain lightning spell. The Mer's eyes narrowed, but she gently placed her daedric weapon on the ground next to her.

"You can kill me now, Argonian," she said quietly with a smirk. "We're still going to win, however."

"You simply have not lost yet," the mage grumbled before turning to look at Vytalas and gestured at the Morag Tong with a claw. "End her."

The archer stood next to his leader and slowly began to aim his bow, wanting to savor every moment before destroying the insufferable female.

"Killing me even after I was nice enough to put down my bow?" she muttered. "What about the Dark Brotherhood's honor you are always blabbering about?"

"You murdered one of my dearest friends. You killed my protégé, Shaleez. As of right now, I couldn't give a damn about honor," the Argonian growled.

"Before I die, can I at least ask you a question, leader of the Dark Brotherhood?" the Mer asked as she beamed up at the reptile lovingly.

The Argonian rested a hand on his assassin's shoulder making the Dunmer lower his bow.

"One, and only one. Make it worthwhile she-elf."

Dinya shook her head and her red eyes twinkled with glee. "If you are here, who is protecting that pretty little wife of yours?"

The question caused KaNack to stiffen up and his hands clenched into fists, smoking from built up anger. "My wife is in Solitude which is under the strict protection of General Tullius and the Imperial Legion."

The caused the female to burst out into laughter and she slapped as her knee, shaking her head. "Oh! Silly little lizard!" Her eyes were wide with delight and malice. "My father was right! He knew you wouldn't be able to resist going after me once we killed your precious little protégé. You fell right into his trap."

"What?" the Argonian hissed.

"Think about it, reptile," the Dark Elf snickered. "The Morag Tong infiltrated every guild before we invoked an execution. Don't you think it's a little odd that we would suddenly go after the Greybeards with seemingly no strategy whatsoever?"

"She's lying," Lachance muttered as he turned to look at the trembling Argonian. "We received word from Brynjolf. That is how we knew where to find her. The elf is just trying to prolong her life a little longer."

"Oh, the little doggy is trying to console his master as usual," Dinya chirped. "So sweet, but you couldn't be more wrong, Fido." The Dark Elf turned to the Redguard who was still pinned by Kaie. "Adara, what was the name of that Wood Elf we found snooping around?"

"Niruin!"

Hearing the name caused the Listener to tense up which only made the female archer grin wider. "That's right, lizard. We found one of your thief friends. Do you think it was coincidence that you received word of our location so soon after torching your mage friend? All it took was some creative torture and eventually we got that tree sniffing bandit to write that report for his leader." She shrugged her shoulders. "He seemed rather relieved once we were ready to finally allow his suffering to come to an end."

"You bitch!" The Argonian snarled furiously as the chain lighting began to charge up brighter in his claws.

"Now here you are, ready to kill me. I accept that," the Dark Elf said. "My father was willing to accept that too. All for the greater good you see." She rested her chin in her hand, not at all frightened by the deadly cast aimed at her. "I would think by now the Khajiit and vampire are well on their way to Proudspire to pay your lovely spouse a friendly visit."

The destructive spell vanished and seemed to explode in a burst of frost as horror overtook the Dark Brotherhood leader.

"Brelyna?"

"Go ahead and kill me, KaNack," she sighed. "We already won."

The mage did not kill her though, instead he screamed his wife's name and took off as fast as his legs could carry him, allowing himself to stumble and slide down the steep mountain face of High Hrothgar. Lucien and the other two assassins could not help but stare after their leader as he seemed to vanish off the side of the cliff.

"She'll already be dead by the time you get there!" Dinya called after the fleeing mage. With all heads turned away from her, the Dunmer puller her daedric blade from its sheath and hurled it into Vytalas' shoulder, making him drop his bow and the poisoned arrow.

"Vy?!" With the Breton distracted by her lover's cry of pain, Adara shoved her shield forward, cracking it into Kaie's temple causing her to stagger to the side, her head ringing.

Dinya snatched up her bow and as she aimed it, saw that she and the spirit of Lachance both had arrows drawn against one another. A twisted smile crawled up her face as she saw the fury burning in the ghost's eyes.

"The Listener is so pathetic and predictable," the elf remarked simply. "I'm surprised he's lasted this long. Anyone with half a brain would realize how to play upon his weaknesses. Kill his family and the mighty Dark Brotherhood leader crumbles."

"You won't be leaving this mountain alive, Mer," Lachance growled darkly. The spirit tensed as he released that the Redguard was now loose, but had no idea if she was still focused on Kaie or was now closing in on him from behind.

"Oh, big threat from the blue doggy," she snickered.

"Call me 'dog' or 'pet' once more, woman," the Spectral Assassin grumbled as he drew the arrow back further. "See what happens."

"**_FUS RO DAH!_**"

The Shout had been deafening. It caused both the Morag Tong and Dark Brotherhood to collapse to the ground as they covered their ears. It had not come from the Argonian, he had already left. This sounded as though it had come from a choir of men. The cry shook the very mountain.

Shocked by what had happened, the group of killers slowly began to rise from the snow, looking around frantically.

"What in the name of Sithis was that?" Kaie hissed as she hurried over to join Vytalas' side.

Even Dinya was at a loss for words as her red eyes glanced in every direction. Slowly, the whole mountain began tremble underneath their feet. The Morag Tong's archer backtracked until she was standing beside Adara and her head tilted upward. The Dunmer gasped and clasped a hand to her mouth in shock.

"AVALANCHE!" the Redguard howled at the top of her lungs.

The Greybeard had become aware of the fighting and threatening that had been occurring far too close to their sanctuary. The old men had assembled and used their Shout to try and repel those who would bring such violence to their world. Arngier had hesitated at first, sensing the Dovahkiin was nearby. Once KaNack had left, the man decided it was time to drive away those who would carry such negativity amongst them.

Kaie held tightly on her lover's hand as the two began to scramble down the side of the mountain. Lachance followed close behind, trying desperately to keep his footing on the sharp and slippery rocks.

"Don't look back!" the spirit shouted. "Keep running!"

Dinya and Adara were already well on their way down the side of the mountain, the terrain did not seem to be affecting them in the slightest. Then again, they were not traveling with an injured companion. Vytalas' shoulder was burning with pain from being struck with a daedric weapon, but he tried to remain focused enough to keep from slipping.

The rumbling suddenly became deafening, and the Breton could not help but turn her head around to look. The huge wave of snow was practically upon them. "JUMP!" she screamed suddenly.

The Dark Brotherhood archer leaped into the air as he was told and grunted as he felt the force of the heavy snow slam into him. He couldn't turn his head to see her, but his hand remained firmly clasped to Kaie's as he scrambled and adjusted himself, trying to not allow himself to get buried, but carried by the deadly flow of ice and snow.

It wasn't until close to a quarter of the way to the base of the mountain that the avalanche seemed to come to a halt. Vytalas' heart pounded heavily as he stared up into the strangely comforting glows and waves of the aura borealis.

"Kaie," he managed to gasp out. "Are you all right?"

A rush of terror came over the Dark Elf as he felt a chill and a sense of ice surround his arm. The elf rolled over and his red eyes widened in fright as he saw his arm was enveloped in snow…with Kaie buried within.

"Kaie! KAIE!"

The assassin began to dig at the snow frantically with his injured arm, not daring to let go of his beloved Breton's hand. The squeezing only drove him to work harder.

"Vytalas?!"

The archer turned his head and saw the blue form of Lachance rushing over to him. The ghost had managed to avoid getting buried.

"Lucien! Kaie's down there! Help me!" the assassin pleaded as he once again began to dig at the snow.

The Spectral Assassin did not hesitate as he used both hands to try and pull away the snow that had engulfed one of the Dark Brotherhood's sisters.

"Kaie! Do not panic!" Lachance shouted, hoping she could hear him as he continued to furiously claw at the snow. "You need to remain calm, and slow your breathing! Understand?"

Vytalas felt his hand get squeezed and that gave him hope. The two assassins worked relentlessly to try and free the Breton. The Dark Elf was overcome with both fear and relief when he saw the familiar color of his lover's reddish brown hair.

"Kaie! Kaie!"

Lucien growled as he pulled back a large layer of snow, revealing Kaie's face. The girl coughed frantically as she stared up at the Dunmer with frightened eyes.

"Don't worry, Kaie," Vytalas assured her as he gently brushed back her wet hair. "We're going to get you out. Just…"

The archer jumped when he heard Lucien suddenly scream loudly in pain. The Dark Elf's head spun around to see a pile of smoking blue ash and a daedric arrow lying within it.

"Hah! Told you I could hit the dog!"

Vytalas eyes narrowed in fury as he saw Dinya, Adara and a very battered looking Deem-Ja making their way over to them.

"Vy, what happened?" the Breton whispered.

The archer pulled himself closer to the buried assassin and glared furiously at the approaching Morag Tong.

"Is she still alive, sweetie?" Dinya asked as she came to a halt about five feet away from the Dark Brotherhood assassin. "My, it seems that nothing can kill that girl."

"Get away," Vytalas growled at her in a threatening tone as he pulled out his ebony blade. Seeing the weapon caused Dinya bite a knuckle, trying to suppress her smirk.

"Should we kill him?" the Argonian asked as he turned to the she-elf. "I'm a little worse for wear, but I think I can still get the job done."

"Oh, no," the elf insisted. "My father's shown a particular interest in the Brotherhood's archer. We need him alive for now." She kneeled down to smile sweetly at the assassin. "Besides, it'd be a crime to kill such a handsome Mer."

"What? So we're just going to leave the one-eared fetcher here?" snapped the Redguard.

"I don't know," Dinya said. "How about it, sweetie? Ready to accept my father's generous offer yet?"

"You and your bastard father can go to Oblivion!" the furious elf screamed at her.

"We could just take him," the Argonian said as he began to fumble in his carrying case. "I think I've got some rope in my knapsack."

This caused the Morag Tong's elf to laugh. "That DOES sound like fun, Beem-Ja. However, Father insisted that he has to come to us. We do have to respect our leader's wishes." She grinned wickedly down at the elf. "Pity though; tying you up was so enjoyable before, sweetie. I get the feeling you secretly liked it as well."

The infuriated archer swung his blade at her, causing the Dunmer to leap back with a laugh. "Don't deny your feelings for me."

"I will kill you," Vytalas hissed at her venomously.

"And I just might take your other ear to teach you a lesson in manners," she answered as she pulled out her dagger and held it to the side of her cheek. "One day you'll learn to love me," she sighed with a shrug. "I'm willing to wait."

"My heart will never belong to you, Dinya," the Dunmer muttered.

"Oh, the prissy Breton? Well, odds are she'll be dead before you can unbury her with your one bad arm, so she won't be a concern of mine for very much longer."

"You don't know Kaie. She's stronger than you could possibly comprehend," the archer snarled quietly as he glowered up at the Dark Elf. "Now, if you aren't going to kill me, just leave us,"

"I guess your answer still is 'no' then? Fine. When you are done playing hide and seek with the Imperial Legion, feel free to try and find us. My father and I will be ready to welcome you with open arms."

The Dark Brotherhood is going to stop you, you know," he grumbled at her. "The Morag Tong will never be anything more than a legend in history books."

"People felt the same way about the Dark Brotherhood," the she-elf answered simply. "Guilds can always come back from the dead." She turned to look at the others. "Let's go, we're done here."

Vytalas trembled in fury as he watched the Morag Tong slowly walk off and disappear down the face of the mountain. The elf shuddered as he thought about Dinya and then looked back to the kind face of Kaie.

"Vytalas? I'm so cold," she said weakly.

"Hang on, Kaie," he said quietly as he began to once again dig in the snow. "I'm right here. I'm going to get you out there. I promise."


	16. Somewhere Safe

KaNack had never pushed the mare as hard as he did when he fled from Ivarstead. Very few things could have caused him to abandon his family in the midst of battle, but the threat placed on Brelyna's life horrified him to his very core. He didn't let up for a moment, urging the demonic steed to run faster and faster, wanting nothing more than to get to Solitude praying to Sithis that he wasn't too late. He had barely recovered from the last butchering that had taken place at the hands of the Morag Tong; losing Brelyna would simply end him.

The sun had just started to rise in the horizon of the ocean as the Argonian finally arrived and rode past the Solitude docks. Had he been able to, KaNack would have ridden his mare right through the walls of the city, but even Sithis' horse had her limits. The black mount grunted and wheezed in distress when her frantic rider finally made her come to a halt before the large entrance to Solitude. Shadowmere did not get winded easily and somewhere in the back of the mage's mind he was sure that the mare was going to make him pay for it later.

The reptile slammed himself into the doors, causing the heavy barriers to fly open and the assassin soon found himself facing no less than four Imperial guards. The soldiers all had their weapons drawn and pointed right at him. After what had happened to Rikke and Firebeard, Tullius had given the guard free reign to do whatever they must to keep strangers out of Solitude. Fortunately for KaNack, they recognized who he was immediately and their weapons were quickly sheathed.

"Legate! The General had just sent a hawk out for you! The Dark Brotherhood struck here once more in Solitude, and…"

The guard didn't get to finish his report. The mage grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him hard into the stone wall, his white eyes burning into the poor guard who had decided to be the one to address the Argonian.

"Where is Brelyna?! Where is my wife?!" he was screaming into the terrified Imperial's face.

"Castle Dour!" the man answered. "You should know though…!"

KaNack did not wait for the soldier to finish his statement as he practically tossed him to the ground and took off in a run. Not seeming to move fast enough, the mage used his Whirlwind Sprint Shout to try and get to the castle faster.

The leader of the Dark Brother now knew that Othrelos was going far beyond trying to frame the followers of Sithis; now he was specifically targeting those he was closest to. He was such a fool for telling the Dark Elf his name; if anything had happened to his beloved Dunmer, the reptile knew it would have been his fault.

The mage rammed his shoulder into the door, practically breaking the entrance to Castle Dour off its hinges. The crashing sound caused General Tullius to rush from the war room, deadric blade out preparing to attack whoever dared to invade the stronghold. Once the Imperial saw the trembling form of his legate before him, the dark look lifted. If there was one person who had a right to burst through the door so violently, it was the black and red reptile

"You're here already?" the commander asked in confusion. "How did you know to come to Solitude?"

"General," KaNack choked out as he staggered forward, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "The guards told me something about the attack! Brelyna! My wife! Please tell me she's not…"

"She's not hurt," the man said as he grabbed hold of his friend's arm and led him over to his desk so that the winded mage could catch his breath. "She managed to survive the attempt on her life by that wretched group of assassins."

KaNack held his face in his hands and let out a shuddered sigh of relief. "Thank the Eight."

"It was fortunate that she had been so skilled in the art of destruction magic. Between her abilities, the housecarl's blade and that man who rushed into Proudspire to help, they were able to fight off her attackers. One of those lousy Brotherhood members even met his end at the hand of Jordis' blade." The General grunted in disgust. "A vampire! Why am I not surprised that those miserable cutthroats had aligned themselves with a creature like that?"

This was relieving news indeed for the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Not only was Brelyna still alive, but one of Othrelos' followers was now dead.

"I took one look at that vampire and could tell that he was part of the Brotherhood! That signature red and black robe, only one guild wears those colors on assignments."

"What of the other attacker? Could anyone identify him?" KaNack asked as he was finally able to relax for the first time in hours.

"From what Jordis told me, it was a gray and white Khajiit. He managed to get away before the guards got to the manor though."

"Tullius, may I see Brelyna?"

"Of course! She and the others are resting up in my chambers. Come with me."

The Listener quietly trailed behind the General as he was led up the winding stairwell of Castle Dour. He was still slight fuzzy in the head having expected the worst when he had come to Solitude. However, there was also guilt; he had left Lucien and his Brotherhood alone on High Hrothgar. They had Dinya at their mercy the last he had seen, still though, he had a disheartening feeling that something bad had happened on that mountain.

"I cannot apologize enough for this, KaNack," the Imperial grumbled. "I swore to you that I would look out for Brelyna when you left the College of Winterhold. If Brelyna had died..." The older man's eyes narrowed.

"Please, Tullius. Don't even say such things," the reptile groaned as he trailed after the silver haired man. "Was anyone badly hurt in the struggle?"

"Jordis received a few deep cuts and scratches and that stranger got bitten by the vampire. Don't worry though, I called for one of our temple's priestesses come here and treat him. I won't let him succumb to vampirism after he so selflessly threw himself at the Dark Brotherhood to protect Brelyna."

"You keep mentioning this stranger," KaNack said as his adrenaline began to wear down and started to feel even more exhausted than before. "I'd like to see him so that I can thank him in person."

"The Nord is with Jordis and Brelyna. He insisted that he didn't want to leave the Dunmer's side until her husband showed up. So you will get your opportunity."

The General paused in front of a closed door and extended his arm out to him. "Take as much time as you need, KaNack. I'll be right downstairs should you need me."

Tullius returned back down the hall to resume his duties, leaving the Argonian to his own devices. KaNack sucked in a deep breath before opening the door to the Imperial's quarters. His housecarl Jordis was being healed by Brelyna who still seemed to be shaking, no doubt still frightened from the encounter. On Tullius' bed was one of the temple's healers tending to the Nord who had helped defend his wife.

The Argonian took a step back in surprise as he recognized the selfless rescuer. The priestess was tending to none other than Brynjolf's pickpocket Vipir. As soon as the two locked eyes, the thief grinned and gave a wave as one of his wrists was being wrapped up by the woman tending to him.

"Hey there, friend. You missed out on all the excitement. Get this, all it took to get some appreciation from a lovely lady was to get bitten by a vampire!" he laughed. "If I'd known it was this easy, I'd have gone into a bloodsucker's nest years ago!"

"You're an idiot," KaNack muttered as he rubbed at his temples. "You have my thanks though."

Hearing her husband's voice, the Brelyna stop casting her restoration magic and spun in her seat. The elf's ruby eyes widened at the sight of her lover standing in the door way.

"KaNack!" She flew from the housecarl and wrapped her arms around the Listener burying her face into his Arch Mage robes. The Argonian pulled her close, not daring to let go. So close, he had come so very close to losing his beloved Brelyna.

"Brelyna, thank the Eight you're safe," he whispered as he nuzzled into her silky hair.

"KaNack, they came out of nowhere," she cried out, her voice slightly muffled from the mage's robes. "I thought I was going to die. Thank the gods that Jordis was there to help me; I never could have held off both of those killers by myself."

"It is my duty to protect both you and your lady, my thane," Jordis announced as she rose from her seat. "I would sooner die than allow any harm to come upon your wife."

"Hey! I helped too!" Vipir insisted from across the room.

The housecarl turned her head to glance at the Nord and then looked back at her thane with a shrug. "He speaks the truth; the little man here did help. Even if all he did was allow himself to get bitten long enough to distract the vampire so that I could drive my sword into his heart."

"I did what any man would have done when a lovely lady was in peril," the thief answered proudly. "I'm no hero; I just was at the right place at the right time." He smiled up at the priestess and pointed at his neck. "I'm still a little sore here, would you mind?"

As upset as the Listener was, the mage couldn't help but smirk as Brynjolf's man gazed upon the healer's breasts as she began to gentle dab at the bite wound with a cloth soak in relieving oils, hoping she could ease the pain in the thief's neck. "Oh, you're a doll."

"Dear lord, you're incorrigible," snorted the reptile. "Nonetheless, I owe you a great favor. Should you ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask it of me," the Argonian said to the thief who was still quite distracted by the healer's chest.

"Grand, I'll keep that in mind," Vipir mumbled, his eyes not blinking.

KaNack frowned and realized that it would probably be necessary to inform Vipir of what had happened to their faithful Bosmer archer. The mage let out a heavy sigh as he looked sadly down at the trembling elf in his arms. He didn't want to let her go, but this was a matter that he could not discuss in front of anyone outside of the Dark Brotherhood circle.

"Brelyna, would you mind terribly if I spoke to this man in private?"

"Of course not, love," she whispered as she slowly let go of her husband and returned to Jordis to resume healing her.

"Hey, anything you need to say you can say in front of this lovely priestess of the divines," Vipir stated as he beamed lovingly at the woman who was starting to suspect that perhaps the man was not as injured as he was pretending to be.

"No, I can't," the Listener said stiffly. "Come with me."

The thief grumbled as he pulled himself out of the bed and smiled back at the priestess. "You've been just fantastic. This being a priestess, does that mean you aren't allowed to see anyone, or…?"

KaNack cleared his throat angrily, causing the pickpocket to hurry out the General's quarters. The Nord glared at him as he began to walk alongside the black and red reptile.

"I don't know what is so important that it couldn't wait. I think that healer and me might actually have something special going."

The Argonian grabbed Vipir by his arm and dragged him into an empty room, slamming the door behind him.

"KaNack!" he hissed. "What in Oblivion is wrong with you?" The thief smirked. "Come on, you know how I am when I see a pretty lady."

"Vipir," the mage started softly. "Niruin is dead."

All mirth dropped from the Nord's face and his eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

"The Morag Tong found him and had him deliver a false message to Brynjolf. It's been made clear that they didn't leave him alive."

"No," Vipir groaned as he collapsed into a chair. "Niruin was always careful. You must be mistaken! I'm sure he got away! He's so clever!" He forced himself to smile. "Yeah! The Bosmer is probably halfway to Riften by now! He'll be there waiting when I…."

KaNack shook his head as he gave the pickpocket a sad look causing the Nord to stop trying to kid himself.

"He…he's really dead, isn't he?"

"I'm sorry, Vipir."

The pickpocket's head sunk low as he stared at the floor miserably. "This is going to devastate Brynjolf."

"We've all lost people we've cared about. Return to your guild leader and have him bring the thieves back to the Ratway. You've all done more than enough and I won't have any more of you getting killed trying to find these executioners."

"What of the Brothers?" he asked as he looked at the Listener sadly. "The Thieves Guild has always been there for their Brothers."

"Whatever happens next, it's no longer the Thieves Guild's concern," KaNack answered simply. "You all just try and look after yourselves." The Argonian was about to leave, but turned back to look at the grieving pickpocket. "I knew Niruin well, Vipir. He was a good man and those who are pure in heart are always are rewarded in the afterlife."

"So, guess that means I'm out of luck then when my time comes," Vipir managed to choke out as a small smile crept up the side of his face. "Take care of yourself, KaNack."

Leaving the thief to mourn in peace, the Listener left to return to Tullius' quarters where Brelyna and Jordis were waiting. The Morag Tong had tried to kill his wife and since the mission was a failure KaNack had no doubts that they would make another attempt.

The General was a good man and meant well, but the Black Hand leader knew that leaving his wife in the capital would be a tragic mistake. There was only one place when she could be kept that he knew would be safe from Othrelos and his executioners. Either way, it was going to end in tears.

Entering the Imperial's chambers, KaNack looked over at his wife sadly. She seemed to not look as scared as she did before, and Jordis seemed much more alert now that most of her injuries had been tended to by the Dunmer.

"Brelyna," he called over to her softly.

The she-elf once again left the housecarl's side and made her way back over to the Argonian. He gently took her chin in his hand as he took in her sweet face. He knew what he had to do was wanted to savor his wife's gaze. Her delicate red eyes that beamed with utter devotion, trust and love.

"Brelyna," he repeated. "These villains have tried to take you from me. It would not matter if Tullius surrounded you with ten of his best men, Proudspire and Solitude is no longer safe for you stay."

"Where else can I go?" she asked quietly as she leaned into his warm embrace. "Solitude is one of the most heavily guarded cities in all of Skyrim. I cannot think of anyplace safer."

A tremor ran through KaNack's body as he thought over his decision. He would have to take his wife to a place where not even the forceful magic of Othrelos could break into. However, this would mean that everything was going to change. All the secrets and lies, all the years of hiding his underground life would soon be revealed to the Dark Elf. He had no other choice though, the Dawnstar Sanctuary was the only place he could take her where the executioners could not hurt her.

"I can take you somewhere where you can be protected, love," he said gently as he held her closer. "I am going to need you to trust me completely, though."

"KaNack, I've always trusted you," she insisted as ran a hand down his cheek. "Wherever you go, I am willing to follow."

"Very well, we have no time to waste then."

Seeing that her lord and lady were about to leave, Jordis stood up from her seat and made her way over to accompany them. The mage held up a hand to motion for the Nord to stop. "I'm sorry, Jordis," KaNack muttered. "Brelyna is no longer under your watchful eye. I need you to stay here and look after Proudspire."

"My thane!" the woman insisted. "I did not fail my duty. Our lady did not fall. Please, don't dismiss me from my obligation to your family."

"You can't come with us," the mage hissed sounding much angrier than he had meant to. "I am not doing this to punish you, Jordis. It's just that the less people that know about this the better. This is simply for our own protection. Understand?"

"I understand, my thane," the Nord answered stiffly.

"Take care of yourself, Jordis," Brelyna said softly. "Thank you for your kindness."

"I am your sword and shield, my lady."

KaNack began to lead Brelyna through Castle Dour until they came upon Tullius who was still hovering over his map. The Imperial looked up in concern when he saw the two.

"KaNack, I think I might be closing in on another sanctuary. There is rumor of a Black Door residing in the hills surrounding Markarth. If you will ride out with me, perhaps we can…"

"I am taking my wife somewhere safe, Tullius," the mage said, cutting the older man off. "Until this threat is dealt with, we shall not be returning to Solitude."

"Legate," Tullis muttered as his grey eyes widened with apprehension. "I won't allow this to happen again. I assure you that your wife will be under the strict eyes of my guards. "

"General, I appreciate all that you have done for me. However, I am not going to have your soldiers hounding my wife. I'm taking Brelyna where these people won't ever find her."

"Won't find her? Where are you going, Legate?" the Imperial as he stood up straight. There were very few places that the man was aware of that were safer than Solitude. Recent events notwithstanding.

"I'm afraid that is need to know information Tullius. The less people who know, the better."

"Well, I am disappointed that you don't trust me, but I understand that you have your reasons. Good luck, Legate KaNack, and don't worry. We're going to get every last one of these assassins! We destroyed the Stormcloaks and the Dark Brotherhood will fall as well!"

The Argonian nodded and gently held onto his wife's hand as he left her out of the stronghold and through the streets of Solitude. The Dunmer was sad to leave, having adopted the city as her home for the last seven years, but she knew that her husband was right in believing that she would not have been happy having Imperial guards breathing down her neck every minute of every day.

"So, where are we going?" she asked him quietly. "Some cabin in the middle of nowhere? One of the many caves you cleared?"

"Brelyna," he grumbled softly as they stepped out of the large doors to where Shadowmere was still patiently waiting for her rider to return. "I want nothing more than to tell you where we are going, but I am going to have to ask you to not question me until we arrive. Just know that these men will not be able to get to you once you are in this safe haven. Can you do that, my love?"

"KaNack, why are you being so secretive?" she asked as KaNack lifted her up and onto the demonic mare's saddle. "What's wrong?"

"All will be made clear soon, Brelyna." He pulled himself up onto the mare's back and his stomach felt like it had been twisted in a knot when his lovely Dunmer wrapped her arms around his waist. "Just know that I love you and I will do anything if it means it will keep you from harm." He grasped the horse's reign tightly in his hands. "Hold on, my love." He looked ahead in the distance; he might be able to make it Dawnstar by nightfall. "Farragut!"


	17. Meet My Unique Family

The lands went from the greens and tans to that of white as he traveled further north. Shadowmere had not been given much time to rest, but she was carrying a precious cargo and would not be able to rest until the mage knew his wife was somewhere safe from Othrelos and the rest of his guild.

KaNack did not say much as he traveled across the vast plains of Skyrim. Brelyna had fallen asleep, tired from the grueling events the previous day, so the Listener had plenty of time to think over what was about to happen. He was apprehensive as he thought about the many different ways his wife was going to react upon meeting his dark family. Brelyna was going to know about him, the murders, the Dark Brotherhood and everything. She was going to find out that he had been lying to her their entire marriage.

For years the Listener had kept up the lie that when he left Solitude he was just performing his duties as the Dragonborn. Brelyna didn't know about his devotion to Sithis, his reformation of the Black Hand or how he had been the one who had slain their beloved Emperor. KaNack was not sure how his wife was going to react when this frightening reality came crashing down upon her, but he had to prepare himself for the worst.

The lands of the Pale were overcast in shadow, as the storms were well on their way to Skyrim. Soon the blizzards would be hitting Dawnstar and no one, not even the Morag Tong leader himself, would be able to work in the deadly snowfall and winds. This would buy the Dark Brotherhood some much needed time to try and recover and come up with a new plan of action.

As the Argonian rode along the shoreline of Dawnstar, the Listener was slowly becoming overrun by guilt. He had left Lucien, Kaie and Vytalas to face the Morag Tong by alone. The mage had no idea if they managed to finish the job without him, but Dinya's words had chilled him to the core and until he had reached Solitude he would have not had any peace of mind. Only Brelyna's life being threatened could have caused him to abandon his family in Ivarstead.

Brelyna stirred awake as the mare came to a halt and she nuzzled into KaNack's back as her arms tightened around him.

"Why have we stopped?" she asked sleepily, still drowsy from the long journey from Solitude.

"We're here," he answered simply.

The Dunmer turned her head to the side and her eyes widened in terror as she saw that imposing door with the grinning skull engraved into it. "What…What is that? Is that a Black Door?" the elf asked in a trembling voice.

The Argonian dismounted the demonic mare and reached up to gently take his wife's hand. "Brelyna, do you trust me?"

His wife stared at him with frightened red eyes. "Of course."

"Then, please, follow me. I will answer any questions you may have, but not until we're safely inside."

The Dark Brotherhood leader could feel the Mer's hesitation as he walked her towards the Black Door that while may have looked imposing, was really nothing more than a friendly welcome mat in his eyes.

'What is life's greatest illusion?' the door hissed, sensing a presence before it.

KaNack leaned over to Brelyna and whispered in her ear. "Say 'Innocence, my brother'."

The Dunmer's eyes widened as she stared at her husband as though he had grown a second head. "KaNack, what is going on?"

"Just say it, Brelyna," he repeated as he eased her towards the door. Alarmed, the female mage leaned towards the disturbing skull that seemed to be scowling at her from the entrance. No sooner had she uttered the password that there was a crack and the door slowly eased open before them.

The Argonian placed his hands lovingly on the elf's shoulders and eased her forward into the chamber hidden deep within. It was a sin to reveal the secrets of the Dark Brotherhood, but surely Sithis would understand. With Brelyna being brought into his world of death, he would have no choice but to induct her into his dark and twisted family of killers. The woman jumped and let out a cry of fear as she heard the door slam behind her.

"It's alright," the mage assured her. "I'm right here." He leaned down to nuzzle her neck. "You can relax, Brelyna," he said. "You're safe now."

"Safe? Are you mad, KaNack?" she whispered. "That was a Black Door, that means this is a Dark Brotherhood sanctuary." She hugged herself as she could not hold back her shivering. "Don't tell me we're going to hide in one of those assassin's abandoned strongholds."

"Not exactly," the Listener uttered shamefully. He took her hand in his and began to lead her down the stairs. Tension was building up and it was only going to be a matter of time before his loving Dark Elf would become aware of just who he was.

Once the couple found themselves on the lower level of the sanctuary, the Listener saw that one of his family members already present. Settled at the small tables was Babette heavily involved in one of her tomes. The Dark Brotherhood leader was relieved that the Unchild was the first of the family that his wife had seen. Brelyna loved children and seeing Babette would more than likely settle her nerves. At least until she realized that the immortal was NOT a little girl.

"Oh, what a sweet child," she said as she pulled away from the Argonian and walked over to Babette. "Hello, my dear, I was under the impression that we were going to be the only ones here."

The vampire looked up from her book and slammed it shut, shocked to see an unfamiliar face in the sanctuary, let alone a Dunmer…a female Dunmer. She was going to say something particularly nasty, but noticed her leader by the stairs and the assassin decided to hold her tongue. Brelyna took a seat next to her and the small killer forced herself to smile sweetly for the newest arrival to their safe haven.

"Did my husband bring you here for your own safety as well?" she asked.

"Let me guess," the girl started quietly and patiently. "You must be this 'Brelyna' that the Argonian is always going on about, am I right?"

"Yes, I am," she answered in a tone that would be used to give a child assurance as she rested a hand on the small of her back. This treatment would have been fine if Babette was a little girl and not a three hundred year old vampire assassin. The immortal's lips thinned and she shot the Argonian a look.

"If I had known we were to be expecting guests, I would have prepared something," Babette remarked bitterly.

The reptile leaned against the entrance way to the stairs and shook his head sadly. "This is the safest place I know, Babette. Our enemies had just attempted to take her life. What would you have me do?"

"I would have you not abandon your brothers and sisters on the side of a mountain!" the girl snapped viciously. The fierce shout from the vampire caused Brelyna to quickly move away from her, startled that such an angry and mature voice could have come from a child. "Do you have any idea what happened after you left? Do you even care?"

"Of course I care! However, I feared the worst of Brelyna, Babette!" KaNack barked angrily back at his sister. His eyes then grew wide when the Unchild's reaction might have meant that something tragic had occurred on High Hrothgar. "The mountain? Kaie and Vytalas! Are they…?"

"Dead?" Babette answered in frustration. "No, but the Breton is in bad shape, I cannot get Vy to leave her bedside. Lucien also was sent back to the Void courtesy of the warlock's daughter."

"Kaie and Vytalas," the Dunmer muttered under her breath, recognizing the names. These were the two who had visited her not too long ago in Proudspire. She turned to look over at her husband and the look he was giving her made her skin crawl. "KaNack, what is going on? You promised me you would give me answers!"

"And you shall have them," the mage said simply. He put his fingers to his mouth and released a loud and piercing whistle that made both Babette and the Mer wince.

"Couldn't you have just arranged a meeting like you normally do?" the vampire grumbled as she uncovered her ears.

The Listener merely crossed his arms and waiting patiently for the drama to ensue. From the different tunnels in the sanctuary, three of KaNack's brothers appeared. The only one whom Brelyna recognized was the eccentric jester that seemed to have vanished from Tamriel a few years prior.

"Cicero?" she muttered under her breath as he eyes narrowed in confusion. The jester seemed just as surprised to see her.

"Wha? My lady! Cicero did expect to ever see you here! This is not where you are supposed to be, not at all!"

"What in Oblivion is going on here, KaNack?" Nazir exclaimed, not at all happy that there was a stranger standing in the middle of their sanctuary. "Last I heard you plunged yourself off the side of High Hrothgar and…" The Redguard paused in the middle of his sentence, and slowly became aware of just whom Brelyna was. "Oh no…"

"That's right, Nazir," sighed Babette. "It seems our leader has seen to it that we are to have a new sister joining our unique family."

"Family?" the Dark Elf whispered. She turned to look at the final assassin, Dro'marash. The Khajiit's ears were erect as he stared at her with bright and confused orange eyes. It was not the cat that shocked the female Mer though; it was his clothes. The furry alchemist was proudly wearing the black and red shrouds of the Dark Brotherhood, complete with the infamous black handprint.

She gasped in horror and clasped a hand to her mouth backing away in fright as the realization hit her. "By the Eight, no." Brelyna rushed over to her husband and grasped him firmly by his robes. "KaNack! Tell me this isn't what it looks like!" Her eyes threatened tears when she saw that her husband did not seem worried or even startled by the obvious assassin of the Dark Brotherhood.

"Brelyna," he started quietly as he gestured towards the group residing within the chamber with a wave of his hand. "Meet my family. I am sure you are already quite familiar with Cicero."

The Dunmer began to shake her head in disbelief and buried her face into his robes. "This is not true! It can't be! You're a good person! You're a kind man! Tell me you aren't a part of the Dark Brotherhood!"

"But of course he is!" Cicero laughed as he shrugged his shoulders. "He's not only a part of it, but he is the Listener! The leader of the Black Hand! He is the one who responsible for all the brothers and sisters who are the children of Sithis! All that we have accomplished is due to him!" the Keeper announced proudly.

"Cicero!" the Argonian hissed in frustration. He then grunted as his wife pushed herself away from him and stared at him furiously as tears began to spill from her eyes. The look shook the reptile to his very core. "Brelyna, please let me explain…"

"All these years we've known each other!" she snarled at him. "Every time you left claiming to be protecting Skyrim, you were just going out to murder innocent people?!"

"It's not like that!" the Argonian insisted frantically as he motioned for her to calm herself. "Brelyna, this is beyond just killing for money! The Brotherhood is a guild of devoted followers of the deity Sithis! We don't kill simply for profit; we do so because it is the will of Sithis!" A sad smile crawled up his face as he thought about his faithful god. "Our ways may seem dark, but that is because you just don't understand just what it means to accept our Dread Father into your heart!" The mage placed his hand on his chest. "The Dark Brotherhood members are bound to each other as Brothers and Sisters of the Void! We are a family!"

"You're a murderer!" she shrieked at him. The Argonian's shoulders slumped as he looked at her sadly; he had been worried that this was going to be his beloved elf's reaction.

"You want me to deny that, Brelyna? I won't. I am a murderer," he answered quietly. "Everyone in the family here has killed, but only in the name of Sithis."

"The name of Sithis?!You killed Onmund!" she howled as she rushed at KaNack and began to pound her fists into his chest. "You killed him! You killed Brelas' husband! You murdered one of our best friends! Your Brotherhood killed him and you stood there at his funeral and pretended like you actually gave a damn about what happened!"

Infuriated at the accusation, the Argonian grasped her tightly by the wrists to bring her beating to a halt. I DID NOT kill Onmund!" he roared at her, causing the woman to stare at him in terror. He released her wrists as he gazed at her with glowing eyes. "How could you?! How could you accuse me of such a thing?! After EVERYTHING we've been through?!" he screamed at her.

"Every laugh we shared! Every song we sang! Every tear we shed! That was all real! I loved Onmund! A part of me died when I found out what had happened! Don't you think for one moment that any of us had anything to do with the slaughter in Winterhold!"

Brelyna trembled with anger as she scowled furiously at her husband. "Why should I believe you? You and your honeyed words and crocodile tears," she hissed. "For the last ten years everything you've ever told me has been a lie. You're not the man I fell in love with, KaNack. I could never love a monster."

The Argonian gritted his teeth as the Mer's words pierced him like a spear. "I knew you wouldn't be able to understand who I was deep within, Brelyna," he stated sadly. "That's why I kept it from you. My love for you and my friends was real, but I am not going to deny what I am." He held his head up proudly. "I am a servant of Sithis. I am the Listener to the Night Mother's words."

Brelyna let out a huff of disgust as she looked the mage up and down. "Is that how you got that scar on your face?" she asked viciously. "Was that brought upon by one of your victims that who was fighting for his life?"

"Actually," the Argonian started quietly as he ran a claw along the scar. "This was done by Lucien."

"Who in Oblivion is Lucien?!" she screamed at him. The Mer jumped in shock when a wave of blue and white mists began to swirl next to her and she dashed to the side as the Spectral Assassin appeared before her.

Lachance turned to the Argonian and his eyes narrowed in anger. "You! How could you just leave like that?!" he snarled as he started towards his caster. "By Sithis, do you have any idea what happened when you…?!"

"Buddy is Lucien," KaNack said as he pointed at the infuriated spirit.

Confused, the specter turned around and gawked in surprise when he saw Brelyna was standing in the middle of the sanctuary's chamber. "My lady," he started quietly. The ghost had only ever seen the Listener's wife in Solitude and he had always been on his best behavior around her. Seeing the Dunmer was most likely what quenched the anger of the Dark Brotherhood spirit.

"So, even Buddy was a part of this cult?" she asked in a trembling voice. "Even your conjurations are evil?"

"Evil is all in the eye of the beholder," the Listener answered simply. "You see killers, I see loving family members. We're not heartless monsters, Brelyna. You must believe me when I tell you that."

"How long?" the Mer asked as she hugged herself. "Just how long have you been killing people?" She glared at him hatefully. "Killing in the name of your horrible deity?"

"Did you hear what she…?!" Cicero started with a hiss.

"Be quiet!" Nazir snapped at the jester.

"Since I first ran away from Winterhold," KaNack answered with a shake of his head. "That's when I became a member of the family and I've been a part of it ever since."

"Then that means you were a part of the guild when the Emperor was assassinated." She turned away her head, not even able to look at her husband. "How did you even have the nerve to look General Tullius in the face when you took that oath?"

"The Listener was more than just a part of it," Cicero remarked with a smirk. "He was actually quite involved."

"Cicero, will you SHUT UP?!" KaNack snarled furiously at the Keeper as his hands crackled with electricity.

"Why should he?" Brelyna shouted at the Dark Brotherhood leader. "At least he's being forthright about everything! Demented as he is!" She shuddered in disgust. "I can't believe this," the Mer whispered in a shaky voice. "I allowed murderers and criminals into my home. All this time the Dark Brotherhood has been a part of my life and I had no idea."

Dro'marash gulped as he looked over at the other assassins in the group. "This is awkward, Dro will take his leave if no one minds," the cat mumbled quietly as his ears flattened against his head.

"KaNack, bringing her here was a mistake," Nazir said in a low and reprimanding tone. "We have enough to deal with without your damn marital drama!"

Brelyna growled angrily and started towards the stairs where KaNack was. "Don't worry, I'm leaving! I'm not going to spend another minute with the people who murdered my friends!"

The Dunmer gasped and took a few wary steps back when KaNack slammed his palms against both ends of the stairwell effectively blocking his wife's path. The dark look in his eyes was proof enough, she could now finally see the killer and not the man she had fallen in love with in Winterhold.

"We did not kill Onmund, Brelyna," he uttered in a guttural tone. "We have not been the ones slaughtering the residents of Skyrim and leaving black handprints on their corpses. There's something deadlier than the Dark Brotherhood at work here."

"He's right you know," Lucien remarked grimly causing the elf to turn to him. "The Dark Brotherhood has always handled contracts with respect and dignity. The guild that you should be angry at, the one responsible for the deaths in your school, is the Morag Tong." He shook his head solemnly.

"I understand that it's hard for you to take in. Everything is not what you thought it was. Yes, the man you married is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood and he has dragged you into our world. This is not a place meant for one who cannot embrace Sithis or the glory of death. However, this is a safe haven to all members of our rather unique family." A small smile crawled up the spirit's face. "You are the wife of the Listener; you won't find yourself in safer place than this sanctuary of assassins."

"I'd rather take my chances out there," Brelyna said resentfully before turning to glare at her husband. "Move, KaNack. I'm leaving this place."

The Argonian kept his arms planted against the wall and slowly shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Brelyna," he said quietly. "I can't let you leave."

"Why?" she hissed. "Because I know too much? Because I've seen the underbelly of the infamous Dark Brotherhood?"

"No," the Listener answered. "Because I would never be able to live with myself if I allowed Othrelos and his executioners to get their hands on you." He stared desperately into the red eyes of his beloved Dunmer. "These people want you dead in order to get to me and I can't let that happen. I love you, Brelyna! I am not going to lose you!"

The Dark Elf's lips curled back in a snarl as she got herself into a casting position. "If you don't move, I'll make you!" she threatened.

Cicero grimaced and started forward, but Nazir held an arm in front of him.

"Try and restrain yourself, Keeper," the Redguard whispered quietly to the fool. "Things are about to get ugly."

"Brelyna," the reptile stated as he gave her a bold look. "I am not going to let you pass through that door. You fell in love with me even after I had become a part of the Dark Brotherhood, nothing has changed."

"Everything has changed, murderer! Now move before I strike you down!"

"Please," the Argonian begged, "this is not the Dark Brotherhood leader speaking to you. This is your loving husband. The one who helped you build bears in the snow. The one who could barely speak two words to you before because of how beautiful you were. The one who fought tooth and nail to survive just so I could have the honor of proposing to you." He managed a small smile as he gazed upon her lovingly. "It's still me, Brelyna. I'm still the same person. I'm still as madly in love with you as the day I first passed through the gates of Winterhold. Haven't we known each other long enough for you to realize that nothing could ever change who I am deep inside?"

The Dark Elf stared at him cautiously for a moment, slightly lowering her hands casting posture and KaNack began to think that he had managed to get through to his love.

"Deep inside?" she asked bitterly as her eyes narrowed once more. "You're still the heartless monster who murdered our Emperor." The Mer's hands lifted back into their casting position. "All hail the Empire!"

"Brelyna!"

The lightning arched from her hands and drove deep into the body of the Listener. His teeth clenched together so tightly that blood began to trickle from his mouth. The pain was horrible; his body was twitching uncontrollably from the electrical currents running through it. Still though, he kept his arms held out and refused to allow the Mer to pass. If he allowed Brelyna to leave, he was practically signing her death warrant, and so long as he was still breathing, he would not allow her to come to harm.

The assassins stared at the encounter in horror as the Dunmer relentlessly cast her lightning spell at their leader. Cicero had enough and charged forward, not able to stand seeing his friend throwing his life away.

Lachance quickly rushed to the side and tackled the Keeper to the ground before he could interfere.

"Get off me!" the jester shrieked. "She's killing him! She's going to kill the Listener!"

"Whatever happens, happens!" the spirit snarled as he struggled to keep the flailing fool on the ground. "You cannot strike the Listener's wife!"

Lachance brought his eyes back up and was disheartened to see that the furious elf was still casting and that the Argonian was not even bothering to try and cast a ward. "By Sithis," he hissed. "You fool; you are willing to die for her?"

Finally, Brelyna collapsed to her knees and grunted in exhaustion having used up all of her magicka. The she-elf panted for breath as she looked up angrily at the twitching reptile above her. KaNack was still blocking her path. He was in searing pain and his Arch Mage robes had been singed horrible, but he had not lowered his guard in the slightest. The black and red reptile looked down at her sadly.

"I know you are frustrated," he groaned as he continued to twitch from the pain of his wife's casting. "I could sense it through your spells. Nothing will ever change the fact that I still love you and I will do whatever I must to keep you safe."

Brelyna slowly rose from the floor and stood before him, staring at him furiously. She wanted to see the eyes of a killer again, the eyes of a murderer. She wanted to see that hateful look that made it so easy to strike at the assassin. All she could see were the tired and solemn pale eyes of the man she had fallen in love with when she was still a student in Winterhold. She didn't see the killer, but nothing changed the fact that she now knew just who he really was.

"I hate you, assassin," she hissed at him venomously. She then slapped him hard across the face making the Argonian wince and let out a soft grunt of pain. Not saying another word, the Dark Elf stormed off into one of the many tunnels in the sanctuary.

Brelyna knew she was about to burst into tears, but she wasn't about to give the reptile the satisfaction of seeing how hurt she truly was. If she cried in front of him, she knew he would see that as proof that she still cared about him. You didn't cry over someone you hate.

With the Dunmer gone, Lucien finally felt safe in letting the jester loose. He wasn't about to let the fool strike down the Listener's wife; that would not have ended well for anyone. The Keeper sped over to his friend, but knew better than to touch him when he was in such pain.

"Oh, poor Listener!" the merry man whimpered. "You tried so hard to be nice to the lady and she repaid you with nothing but cruelty! It's a sin! She has sinned!"

"You won't be harming a hair on her head, Cicero," KaNack grumbled as he shot his Keeper a dark look.

"Cicero will do his best to restrain himself! The Fool of Hearts however will NOT hold back his vicious tongue! He will NOT!"

"That's fine, Keeper."

With the threat of Brelyna leaving through the Black Door no longer an issue, the mage collapsed onto the stairs and continued to tremble in agony from the lightning attacks. Babette let out a sigh as she made her way over to the wounded Listener.

"Didn't even want to cast a ward, huh?" she muttered as she pulled a small red bottle from one of her pockets. "You're ridiculous. She might have killed you."

"Leave me be," the Argonian muttered trying to wave away the Unchild as she tried to apply some of the healing ointments onto her leader. "Go keep an eye on Brelyna. Make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

"Hurt herself?" snorted the vampire as she rolled her eyes. "By Sithis, I'm worried about her hurting me! You're her husband and that didn't stop her from sizzling you from the inside out!"

"She'd never hurt a child," KaNack insisted weakly. "Please, just keep an eye on her. For me?"

The small assassin grumbled and handed him the bottle. "Make sure you use this, or I will thrash you."

"Understood, madam."

As soon as Babette was gone, the Listener struggled to his feet and began to stagger out towards one of the tunnels.

"Where is the Listener going?" Cicero asked in concern.

"To lie down. Kind of in horrible pain here," the reptile answered bitterly as he vanished into one of the chambers.

Nazir grumbled and crossed his arms.

"Well lovely, as if things weren't bad enough. We have the Morag Tong hunting us, KaNack and his wife are in the midst of a spat, and we have a blizzard on the way." The Redguard sat down on one of the chairs and glared at the doorway. "We need to go and get supplies at the Windpeak Inn before the storm hits; it should be here in just a matter of hours."

"Cicero will do it!" the Keeper exclaimed as he bounced over to the Redguard. "Cicero hasn't been to the town in days! Let the Keeper do it! He can get the supplies for the family!"

"You?" muttered Nazir. He turned to glare over at the Spectral Assassin. "What do you think, Lachance?"

"The town is less than a mile from the sanctuary. People in the Pale are already starting to seek shelter because of this damn weather. If the Keeper wishes to go out to the town I am more than happy to accompany him."

"Cicero needs no escort!" the fool snapped as he placed his hands on his hips. "I've gone to the inn many times!"

"I don't like you traveling alone with circumstances the way they are," the spirit insisted. "I'd feel more reassured if…"

"Cicero is more than capable of handling himself, thanks all the same."

Lucien let out a frustrated sigh and glared off to the side. He did not appreciate that all of his concerns had been getting dismissed as of late.

Nazir mumbled something as he reached into his satchel. "Fine, but only because my back is acting up again." He pulled out a coin purse and held it out to the jester who snatched it up with glee. "You've eaten with us enough times to know what we need. Just get food, salt and some extra firewood."

"Right away, Speaker!" the Imperial announced as he saluted the Redguard. "Humble Cicero will get everything the family needs to last the storm!" The Keeper turned on his heels and began to whistle happily as he started for the stairs.

"And don't come back with a bag of sweet rolls!" the older assassin barked after him.

"Oh! One time Cicero did that! One time!" the fool exclaimed as he vanished up the stairs.

Lucien turned to the Redguard and crossed his arms. "Do you want me to accompany the Keeper and make sure he's all right?"

"He'll throw a fit if he sees you prowling after him. It's a fifteen minute walk to the inn," Nazir sighed as he leaned back in the chair. "He'll be fine. Besides, the little maniac can take care of himself. You know that."

"I do," the spirit said quietly. "However, the blizzards in the Pale are unpredictable. I hope he gets back before the storm hits."

"You worry too much."

The Spectral Assassin glared over his shoulder at the Redguard. "Someone has to."


	18. The Promise

Thoring watched in curiosity as the peculiar man continued to pile different types of food and drink on the counter before him. He did not question the jester's garb, as he had seen the odd Imperial many times. He was a close acquaintance of one of the Windpeak Inn's best costumers.

It was fairly common at the end of the month for the rambunctious Argonian to bring a pack of his jubilant, yet intimidating, companions to practically clear out his entire stock of mead. They never seemed to cause trouble unless someone was foolish enough to insult one of them or a bard happened to be performing. Fortunately, word had gotten around and most of the wandering minstrels knew better than to practice their art in Dawnstar when the month was coming to a close.

There wasn't much left in the way of supplies as most of the residents in the small town had already purchased what they needed to outlast the incoming storm. The fool did his damnedest though to grab whatever was left.

"Let me guess," the innkeeper said simply, "you want firewood as well?"

"Twenty blocks of wood should be more than enough I think," the Keeper muttered as he scanned over the supplies he had collected to make sure he did not forget anything.

"That's going to be pretty heavy for one person to carry," Thoring commented as he started towards the back where the wood was kept. "Sure you can handle this on your own?"

"Cicero is much stronger than he looks!" the Imperial chirped as he pulled his coin purse from his satchel. "It'd be foolish to question this fool's might!" The jester leaned against the counter as he waited. "Besides, Cicero's horse is right outside. He can cart what I cannot."

Thoring appeared from the back pulling a small wagon that had five bundles of firewood placed upon it. "I guess that makes me feel a little less guilty sending you off with this load," the innkeeper stated as he began to load the Brotherhood's supplies into a potato sack. "I am surprised that your friends aren't here to help you prepare for the blizzard."

"Cicero does not mind the work! Cicero lives to serve!" the smaller man insisted as he handed the bag of septims to Thoring. Taking the coin, the larger man turned to the window and frowned.

"Looks like the winds are picking up, you best hurry off. You don't want to get caught in one of these storms."

"Brrrr, I'm getting chills just thinking about it." The Fool of Hearts grabbed the sack and handle of the wagon as he started for the door. "Farewell, kindly innkeeper!"

Once outside the Windpeak Inn, Cicero became just aware of how close the blizzard was. The winds were whipping fiercely and bit at his cheeks and nose. He let out a huff which produced large puff of white air before pulling the wagon of firewood down the porch to the right. He had left the strong stallion Frost by the emptied chicken coops and did not want to waste any time returning to the warmth and safety of the sanctuary.

The Keeper frowned when he saw that his gold and white horse was not where he had left him. "Bothersome horse," the man grumbled. "Where did you go?" Frost was not as obedient as the Listener's mare Shadowmere, but he was not prone to wandering off when left to his own devices.

Leaving his supplies by the coop, the Keeper wrapped the fancy coat he was wearing tighter around him as he shivered. It was getting colder, but he couldn't return to the sanctuary until he found his steed. The storm was going to be dangerous and Cicero was not going to leave Frost outside the stables to face the wrath of the blizzard.

The Fool of Hearts was grateful that his mount was so large, as the hoof prints in the snow left an obvious trail for him to follow. Frost seemed to have gone off towards the mountains in the distance for some reason that the Keeper could not comprehend. A quiet snort in the distance caused the jester to perk up and quicken his pace.

Cicero let out a sigh of relief when he saw the stallion by the mountain side, pawing at the snow with a large hoof.

"Frost! You naughty horse!" the Keeper snapped as he approached the creature. "Do you not sense there is bad weather ahead?"

Frost turned his head to stare at the Imperial dumbly as his ears flicked in recognition of the piercing voice of his rider. The fool grasped the animal's reigns and glared at him. "Come, we're going home." Cicero glowered ahead as he began to lead the golden stallion back down towards Dawnstar. "You shall receive no carrots tonight for your disobedience."

Frost leaned his head forward and nosed the Keeper in the back of his head playfully causing the smaller man to grin. "Well, maybe Cicero will still let you have one carrot."

A tremor suddenly ran down the jester's spine and his eyes narrowed. The fool had good instincts and always trusted them whenever he felt something was amiss. Unsheathing his ebony blade, Cicero spun around and there was a sharp clank of impacting metal.

The Khajiit had been sure that the Dark Brotherhood member would not have heard him coming; he always traveled so silently across the ground. However, the Imperial had been aware of his presence and blocked the strike of his elven dagger.

The Keeper glared at his would be attacker. The cat was white with a few gray stripes lining his face and the rest of his body was shrouded in dark crimson and black robes. The feline grinned wickedly, revealing his long sharp fangs.

"Well, Ra'jiir underestimated the Brotherhood member's abilities," he remarked as his tail swished in anticipation. "Not many would have been able to block that blow."

"Cicero has not used his blade in some time, but he still knows how to wield it," the Keeper answered darkly. "One of the Morag Tong I presume?"

"Ra'jiir," the cat said as he backed away and politely bowed. "Master of the elven daggers and your executioner."

The feline was less than pleased when the small man before him burst out into laughter. Ra'jiir scowled and pointed his blade at the cackling assassin. "Do not laugh! I have come to kill you!"

"Forgive Cicero's sniggering," the Keeper giggled as he smacked Frost on his backside, sending the horse racing down towards the town, "but you simply are out of your league, kitty cat." The Imperial gleamed evilly as he ran a finger along the rim of his blade. "Cicero has a job to do and does not have time to spar."

"Spar?!" Ra'jiir hissed as he got into an attacking position. "I am a Morag Tong executioner! You are going to fall under my blade! You are mad to laugh at this!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" the fool exclaimed in delight. "Cicero is mad! However madness is merry and merriment's might!" Cicero braced his leg into the snow as he grasped his ebony weapon tightly in his hand. "It was a mistake to come upon this jester with his knife in the night."

"Ra'jiir will stain this snow with your blood!"

The Khajiit launched himself at the Keeper and his hand swung over his shoulder as he prepared to slash his blade across the infuriating follower of Sithis. Cicero dropped to a knee and the blade flew harmlessly over his head and his hand lunged forward trying to plunge his dagger into the gut of the cat.

Ra'jiir twisted his body and the ebony blade ripped into his cloak. Dancing back a few steps, the executioner's whiskers twitched as his eyes glowed blue in the moonlight. The Fool of Hearts slowly rose to his feet and looked over at the cat in frustration.

"Damn, Cicero is rusty. Very, very rusty. However, I am sure that I will soon be able to dance as gracefully as my sharp friend." Cicero tapped his weapon against his hip as he looked over at the angry Morag Tong in disinterest. "Cicero is curious though. How did you come upon this town of ours?"

The Khajiit snickered as he began to prowl forward, holding out his elven dagger threateningly. "Your Argonian friend led me here right from Solitude," the cat answered. "We might have not been able to kill his pretty little spouse, but he has let Ra'jiir know exactly where you are all hiding."

The jester's grin quickly lowered into a grimace and his golden eyes burned into the executioner's "Oh, well that won't do," muttered the fool. "Cicero will have to kill you quickly. Can't have you caterwauling to the false assassins."

"Think you can kill me, old man?" the feline chuckled as he lowered into a crouching position. "You must be at least twice Ra'jiir's age!"

"That just makes Cicero twice as experienced," the Imperial retorted as he braced himself for whatever the cat's next move was. Hissing fiercely, Ra'jiir flew at the jester and began to swing his blade furiously. The elven dagger flew from left to right, and a resounding clang echoed through the terrain as the Keeper blocked every slash of the weapon as he was forced to backtrack further down the hillside.

Ra'jiir shot his leg forward and knocked the Imperial backwards, but Cicero in his flailing managed to grab a handful of the executioner's shroud. The two tumbled down the steep hill and collapsed to a heap on the empty road below.

Both the jester and cat glared at each other menacingly as they pulled themselves to their feet. The two brandished their blades and braced themselves for the other's attack.

"Ra'jiir will admit that you are not quite as easy to kill as he thought."

"Many have tried to slay the Keeper," the fool answered bitterly. "Soldiers, witches, werewolves and dragons! All have failed; just as you shall."

A smirk crawled up the Khajiit's lips as he pulled forth a second elven dagger. This one glowed a bright green in the darkness. Cicero peered at the weapon curiously and his eyes widened with glee as a mad grin spread across his face.

"Oh, what a pretty blade!" the Dark Brotherhood member cried out in delight. "It shines like a nirnroot! May Cicero have it?"

"You can have it embedded deep within your throat, lunatic."

"No, thank you! I think I'd rather just take it for my own devices!"

Ra'jiir let out a snarl as he was getting sick of his prey not taking him seriously in the slightest. "Do you not fear death at all?!"

The question caused Cicero to let out a hearty laugh. "Why would Cicero fear death? Death means a journey to the Void! Death means being reunited with fallen friends!" The Imperial shook his head. "Besides, you cannot kill the Fool of Hearts no matter how many of those pretty little weapons you might possess."

A puff of steam flowed from the cat's nostrils as he let out a frustrated huff. "Let's hear you laugh once Ra'jiir severs your vocal cords!"

The Morag Tong dashed at the Keeper and began to twirl and swipe in motions that seemed to resemble dancing as his deadly elven blades swung relentlessly. Cicero managed to block a few of the strikes, but with a second blade to avoid, the fool had to be more on his toes. The Imperial would arch forward and suck in his gut to avoid one strike while using his ebony dagger to block the other.

The Fool of Hearts had managed to last so far, but he was not as young as he once was and knew he couldn't keep up with the younger killer at the pace he was keeping. His brain scrambled as he tried to think of a strategy that would once again give him the upper hand; but he had no staffs, no scrolls and no potions. All he had was his ebony weapon and his cleverness.

"Face it, assassin! You're outmatched!" the cat snarled as he held out his arms and spun around in place. Once the attack was completed, Ra'jiir took a few steps back to observe his handiwork.

The first sensation the jester had felt was stinging pain followed quickly by warmth. The golden eyes slowly lowered and he saw the deep slash lining across his torso. Cicero was stunned for a few moments before he fell backwards and rolled down another steep incline towards a ditch beside the road.

"Ah," the Khajiit sighed in satisfaction. "That's more like it." Ra'jiir carefully eased his way down the incline, reveling in the large red trails of blood that guided him towards his prey. The cat finally found the Imperial curled up in a fetal position and clutching the deep wound in his abdomen to try and stop the bleeding. The jester looked over at the approaching executioner weakly.

"Well, the cat certainly CUT to the chase, didn't he?" the fool mumbled.

The smirk on the feline's face broadened as he sheathed his unenchanted dagger and began to prowl closer to the wounded assassin. "Still joking? You are quite the fool, aren't you?"

"Cicero is a jester, silly Tong," the smaller man coughed out. "The Fool of Hearts. A fool to the bitter end."

"Ra'jiir will end your suffering, do not worry," the Khajiit insisted as he paused in front of the wounded Keeper. "I will kill you and another member of the Dark Brotherhood will fall before the superior Morag Tong." He crossed his arms as he gazed down upon the jester. "Ra'jiir does not think he has ever seen you traveling with the other assassins. What exactly is it that you do for that stupid Argonian?"

"Cicero is his Keeper," the fool answered solemnly before shutting his eyes. "Cicero is the Listener's closest friend."

"You have no idea how much that news pleases me, clown," the cat snickered as he tightened the grip on the hilt of his blade. "Ra'jiir will leave your head at the Black Door for your precious Listener to find. He will see it and finally succumb to his bitter downward spiral into despair and hopelessness."

The cat's ears pricked up when he heard dark and wicked snickering coming from the fool. "**_And if by chance I see a cat…_**" The Keeper's eyes suddenly opened and were burning amber with fury and a new life. "**_…I'll feed its corpse to my pet rat._**"

"What?"

Cicero suddenly flew from the snow bank and his blade slashed fiercely across the execution's chest, staining the white snow with a spray of blood. Ra'jiir shrieked in pain and scrambled back up the ditch but not before receiving another painful slash to his leg. The Morag Tong staggered onto the road and grasped at his chest as his teeth clenched in pain.

"**_And if I hear a spying Tong, I'll slit his throat before too long._**"

The feline's ears flattened at the sound of the chilling singing and felt a lump in his stomach as he saw the Imperial appear from the incline and make his way to the middle of the road. The jester's eyes were wide with both delight and malice and his hand was grasping his ebony blade with a newfound strength. The wound was still there, the Keeper was still bleeding, but the Imperial was showing no sign that he was aware of the injury.

"Impossible! That lesion should have left you bleeding to death and at my mercy!" the executioner exclaimed in shock.

Cicero cackled loudly as his long auburn hair whipped in the gushing winds of the incoming storm. "Stupid executioner! You cannot kill Cicero!" he snarled. "Cicero promised the Listener that he would not fall to the Morag Tong! That he would not die at your hands!" The jester licked at his teeth as he started to prowl towards the startled Khajiit.

"Cicero cannot break his promise and therefore cannot be killed by the likes of you," the fool remarked darkly as he shrugged himself out of the coat. "This is better, Cicero can move much faster without this impeding garment."

"You're not real!" the cat screamed as he took a few wary steps back. "No human can endure a wound like that and stand! What on Nirn are you?!"

"Cicero…" the man started darkly, "…is the Keeper!"

The fool sprang as the executioner and swiped his blade at the frightened cat's throat. Ra'jiir lurched to the side then yowled in pain when he felt the blade bite into his shoulder. The Morag Tong staggered as quickly as he could and turned to face the maddened jester. The Imperial was much faster now that he was no longer wrapped in the heavy winter coat and the Khajiit realized just how dangerous the Fool of Hearts truly was.

The jester once again charged forward a maniacal grin plastered on his face as he was now completely absorbed in the thrill and delight of spilling blood and bring death upon another. For too many years he had not had the privilege of taking a life for Sithis, and the sensation he felt now was pure ecstasy.

Ra'jiir pounced to the side to avoid the Keeper's blade and plunged his dagger deep into Cicero's outer thigh. The Imperial did not cry out in pain, he did not even seem to register that the cat had stabbed him. His blade came falling down and Ra'jiir had to let go of the elven dagger and roll out of the way to avoid the deadly strike.

"You're not human! You're some kind of dremora! A monster!" the Khajiit screamed as he scrambled backwards on his hindquarters in fear as the relentless Dark Brotherhood member lurked ever closer to him.

"**_It's the will of Father and his wife, that your blood is spilled by my knife_**," the jester sang in a guttural tone as he gripped his ebony blade tighter in his hand. Now standing over the trembling cat, the Imperial prepared to deliver the final blow.

In one last attempt for survival, the executioner kicked his legs out into the knees of Cicero causing the man to stagger back. Not wishing to endure another moment with the seemingly unbeatable Fool of Hearts, the Khajiit fled and vanished up into the mountains of Dawnstar.

Cicero growled furiously as he saw his quarry getting away, but as soon as Ra'jiir disappeared from sight, the Imperial's adrenaline began to wear off and he started to become aware of just how much agony he was in and how much blood he was losing. The jester grunted in pain as he ripped the enchanted elven dagger out and sheathed it along with his ebony weapon.

"Cicero said he would take the Tong's pretty blade," the Keeper managed to grumble out before he started to stagger back down to the town of Dawnstar. He had no idea what kind of enchantment had been placed on Ra'jiir dagger, but it not seem to have any effect while the fool was caught up in the moment.

When Cicero reached the small town, he saw Frost waiting for him by the Windpeak Inn. Despite his injuries, the Keeper was still aware of what he had been sent out to do. Struggling to fight through the pain and ignore his blood loss, the jester began to load the firewood into the large carrying satchels attached to his mount's saddle. Once the kindling had been loaded, the Imperial grabbed the sack of food and drink and took a hold of Frost's reins.

"Come along, naughty horse," the Dark Brotherhood member whispered feebly as he began to lead the stallion towards the sanctuary. "Time to go home, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."


	19. Soul Trap

The tension residing in the small sanctuary in Dawnstar was still thick and seemed to not have lessened in the slightest. Their guest had barricaded herself in one of the many residential chambers of the sanctuary and the Listener was sleeping off his injuries sustained at the hands of the one he was trying to protect.

Nazir was looking over a map of Skyrim marking off the different spots where the Morag Tong had either been spotted or where one of their victims had been found. The Redguard had hoped that by doing so he might be able to find some kind of pattern and figure out if the executioners had a base of operations. The older assassin lowered his head as the Spectral Assassin had been hovering silently over his shoulder since he had started working on the project.

"Must you do that, Lachance?" the Redguard grumbled. "I can feel you breathing down my neck. It's freezing."

"Many pardons." The ghost took a seat in one of the chairs as he peered at the map and placed a transparent finger on the parchment. "It seems most of their activity is in the Pale. It is possible they might have a stronghold in that region."

"The problem is that they were spread out due to them going after the different guilds. If they use hawks to communicate like we do, it's not out of the question that their base is elsewhere."

"If they even have one," continued the spirit. "They could just move from place to place, not residing in the same location for too long. That would make them difficult to trace."

"I have no doubt that since Brelyna's execution failed, they will try and kill in one of the more minor factions in Skyrim. It's possible that Othrelos will target the Knights of Stendarr next to get them after us as well," muttered Nazir. "If those men willingly go after dremoras, they'd have no problem going after the Dark Brotherhood."

"No, look how close their cabin is to Dawnstar," insisted the specter as he gestured to the map. "With the blizzard this close to striking, not even the Morag Tong would risk getting trapped in the storm."

"Cicero is back!" a piercing voice coughed out.

The two Brotherhood members turned around and were shocked at the miserable creature before them. The jester was barely standing, a bag of supplies in one hand and the other holding an overwhelming wound in his abdomen.

"By Sithis! Cicero!" the ghost exclaimed.

Nazir rushed over and grasped the fool by the shoulders as he looked the man up and down. "What in Oblivion happened?! You were gone for less than an hour!"

"Humble Cicero had a little encounter with the Morag Tong's kitty cat," the Imperial answered as he allowed the Redguard to lead him through the tunnels. "He followed the Listener right to the sanctuary. Faithful Cicero tried to kill him, but he escaped into the mountains."

"Where?" Lachance asked as he helped his fellow Speaker carry the Fool of Hearts through the sanctuary.

"Just on the outskirts of the town, near the Windpeak Inn."

The Redguard and specter shared a look as they guided their wounded Keeper towards the alchemy lab.

"He needs healing," the Spectral Assassin insisted. "Take him to Babette, if the Listener sees what the Morag Tong has done to him, he'll go into another fit of rage."

"Babette can't do healing spells," the older assassin snapped. "She can stabilize Cicero at best. Besides, she's with that insufferable she-elf."

"Do what you must, but if the Listener finds out that his best friend was almost killed we won't be able to stop him from leaving here to try and finish what the Keeper could not. Do you want to try and restrain him when he's that determined?"

"Do not make such a fuss over Cicero! Cicero is fine," the fool groaned as he smiled up at the Redguard. "I am surprised to see you so concerned though, Speaker. I thought you hated jesters."

"This is not because I like jesters!" snapped Nazir angrily. "This is self preservation! I don't want KaNack Shouting off my head because I allowed you to bleed to death."

"Oh, Cicero and the executioner had quite a lengthy conversation with one another," snickered the fool. "As you can see, I spilled my guts to him."

The Redguard's eyes narrowed in frustration as the jester began to laugh madly. "This isn't funny!"

The Spectral Assassin paused and his eyes narrowed as he glared back the way he had come. The Morag Tong who had tried to kill Cicero was still wandering about the mountains. He needed to be silenced before he alerted the rest of the executioners of their whereabouts. The blizzard would keep them safe temporarily, but it would only be a matter of time before the Morag Tong surrounded the sanctuary, or worse, gave its location away to the other guilds and General Tullius.

"Take Cicero to Babette, Nazir," Lachance stated as he started back the way he came.

"Where are you going, Lucien?" the Redguard snapped. "The blizzard will be hitting us soon! It's not safe to leave the sanctuary!"

"I'm already dead! What's the worst that could happen?" the ghost retorted not even bothering to look back at Nazir. "Tend to the Keeper!"

"Lucien!"

The Spectral Assassin ignored the angry Redguard's shouting as he stormed towards the Black Door and left the safety of the sanctuary. The ghost could feel the winds picking up which was the first sign of a deadly blizzard in the Pale. He did not have time to waste, he had to find this Khajiit executioner and end him before he could share what he had discovered with his deadly leader.

The blue transparent form was barely visible between the dim light of the moon and the pale white of the surrounding snow. That would work in the spirit's advantage, he would need to be stealthy in order to sneak up on his prey and end him.

Lachance stopped once he had reached the border of the town and peered up into the mountains. At first he did not see anything, but as he continued along the road he made out just the faintest flickering of a campfire on top of one of the mountain ridges in the distance.

"There you are," the Spectral Assassin uttered darkly. "Odds are this blizzard will kill you, but then you would not suffer in the Void. That is unacceptable."

Pushing forward, the spirit of the Dark Brotherhood began his pursuit of his Khajiit prey. Pale transparent hands clutched at cold and icy rocks as the assassin scaled the dangerously steep mountain side. His boots dug into the snow and slowly he ascended ever closer to the camp that was settled at the top of the bluff. He winced as a strong wind blew against him, but the threat of the storm did not faze him in the slightest. Onward he climbed towards the glistening orange lights of the campfire.

He was a ghost, but the gifts of Sithis provided him with a form that was by all means physical. Lachance could smell, breathe and touch just like a normal person could. However, that meant he could also be stabbed, grabbed or succumb to severe pain. It was the price to pay for being granted the privilege of leaving the sanctity of the Void.

The ghost grunted quietly as he pulled himself up and onto the ridge of the large mountain and his eyes narrowed as he peered ahead of him. He could see the campfire in the distance, and settled by it was a Khajiit.

The feline was bandaging a leg and cursing angrily about how cold it was. It was dark, but Lucien could clearly see that the cat was wearing red and black robes. Obviously, this was the executioner who had tried to claim the life of the Dark Brotherhood's Keeper and he would die for the attempted slaying.

The Spectral Assassin produced his bow and began to lurk forward, keeping low to the ground and doing his best to try and refrain from making any sounds in the layer of snow beneath him. As he got closer, a ghostly arrow materialized in his other hand and he aimed the weapon at the Khajiit's forehead.

The executioner kept moving and shifting as he tended to his injuries which kept throwing off the ghost's aim. Lucien grimaced and was forced to move closer in order to make sure he could get the shot off flawlessly. If he missed, it would give the Morag Tong a chance to react and Lachance preferred to dispose of the executioner as quickly as possible.

He just needed to get a few feet closer and then he would be at just the right distance to take the feline down with a single arrow. As he stepped closer, there was a loud explosion and the spirit was hurled backwards and crashed into a large rock formation. The spirit hissed as a sensation of pain and cold overtook him. He grimaced and his eyes widened in frustration and anger as he realized that he had just set off a trap.

"A frost rune! Damn it all!"

The rune had been almost impossible to see amongst the ice and snow on the ridge, and now all hope of stealth had been shattered. The Khajiit leaped to his feet and pulled out an elven blade as his blue eyes shined brightly.

"Ah ha! Thought you could sneak up on Ra'jiir, eh?" The cat paused when he saw that his attacker was a ghost. "What? Who in Oblivion are you?"

Lucien's teeth bared in a snarl as his dagger materialized in his hand. "I am the one who is going to end your miserable life!" The phantom charged forward and swung his blade as the Khajiit leaped off to the side. The rune had hurt the ghostly Speaker, but the executioner was still recovering from his encounter with the Fool of Hearts.

The cat hissed and blocked one of Lachance's strikes with his elven blade and drove his shoulder into the spirit's chest causing him to stagger a few steps back. The Spectral Assassin grunted in pain, but he just became angrier as he charged back and relentlessly swung his ethereal weapon at the Morag Tong who was showing signs of exhaustion.

Lachance managed to grab a hold of the feline's wrist with one of his hands and drove the hilt of his dagger into it, causing the executioner to drop his weapon. In desperation, the Khajiit swiped his claws across the specter's face tearing out waves of blue mist and causing Lucien to release his hold on his enemy.

"Mul!" the cat screeched as he took a few nervous steps backwards on the large flat ridge of the mountain.

The Spectral Assassin held off his attack when he thought he heard the sound of crunching snow above him. He whirled to the side and there was a loud thud as a massive Orc landed next to him with a deadly daedric warhammer crashing down where the transparent assassin had been standing mere seconds prior.

Lucien growled in frustration as he took a few wary steps backwards. The Orsimer was enormous and with him coming to the Khajiit's aid, he had no doubt that this was the same one who had attacked Dro'marash in his werewolf form. Lachance had not come prepared to face more than one executioner, and certainly not a werewolf.

"By Sithis," he muttered under his breath as he held up his dagger and took a few more wary steps back not wanting to remain in the striking distance of the barbarian's weapon.

The Khajiit chuckled wickedly as he picked his dagger back up and joined Mul's side. The larger executioner's eyes narrowed and his tusks rose slightly as he bore his teeth in anger. The spirit's eyes darted between the two members of the Morag Tong before scanning the rest of the area, trying to get a picture of his surroundings and how he could use it to his advantage. His eyes widened when he noticed a few small shelves sticking out from the rock surrounding the ridge.

"Now it's two against one, ghost," the laughed wickedly. "Ra'jiir does not know who you are or why you have decided to attack, but we will destroy you!"

The feline darted forward releasing what the specter could only assume was a pitiful attempt at a battle cry. Lucien ducked the Khajiit's swing and rushed right towards the Orc that was raising his large hammer for another swing. The agile spirit leaped over the deadly head of the hammer as it swung at him and grasped onto a shelf of ice jutting from the rocks. Mul turned his head in surprise just in time to receive a swift kick to the jaw from the Dark Brotherhood's spirit.

The large executioner stumbled back and Lucien dropped back down to the ridge and sprang forth, digging his blade deep into the side of the Orsimer. Mul let out a guttural howl of pain and a strike from one of his might arms sent the specter crashing back, not unlike when he had been struck by Vilkas in Whiterun.

"That little blue bastard! I am going to smash his head in!" the Orc roared as he stared at the assassin with glowing yellow eyes. Ra'jiir rushed over to Mul and bared his teeth furiously at the phantom.

"Come on, Mul! Let's end this spirit's afterlife!"

The two Morag Tong members started towards the Spectral Assassin. The Orc had his daedric hammer grasped tightly in his hands and the Khajiit was still wielding an elven dagger. Lucien grumbled as he pulled himself back to his feet glowering out towards at his approaching enemies. He held out a hand and produced his spectral bow which caused the two executioners to halt their advance.

"An archer?" Mul grumbled as his grip on the handle of his warhammer tightened. "I HATE archers!"

"That's something we have in common then," Lachance hissed as an ethereal arrowed materialized in his hand and he shot the projectile. The Orc snarled in pain as the arrow punctured into his arm when he tried to shield himself from the attack. He was in such pain that he did not even notice that his smaller guild member was now hiding behind him to avoid getting struck.

"I can produce these all night, executioner!" the ghost announced as another arrow appeared in his hand and he took aim. "Your death can be sudden or slow! The choice is yours!"

"That is ENOUGH!"

Lucien uttered a cry of shock and pain as he felt something strike him right in the center of his back. His body lit up in halo of blue and purple light as the effects began to spread about and take effect. The energy completely enveloped Lachance physically bringing his attack to a halt and causing the supernatural bow to vanish from his hands.

The Spectral Assassin had never felt such an excruciating surge in all his years as a man or a spirit. It was as though his very essence was trying to rip itself from his upper body. The ghost grunted in agony and he dropped to a knee clutching at his chest. Lucien gritted his teeth trying to fight through the pain.

"Ra'jiir! Mul! I cannot believe I was forced to intervene like this!" The ghost turned his head and his eyes widened in alarm as he saw Othrelos slowly approaching the camp from a high level on the rock formation. Obviously the warlock had been observing the entire encounter. The ghost turned his head back quickly, before the Dunmer could get a good look at his face.

"Boss! He attacked Ra'jiir out of nowhere!" the Khajiit insisted as he finally came out from hiding behind the larger Morag Tong executioner. "I know there were rumors of spirits haunting the lands of Skyrim, but this was ridiculous! Mul here tried to squash him, but the ghost is pretty swift!"

The Orc grumbled as he ripped the arrow from his arm and glared menacingly over at the afflicted specter. "Let me crush him, Othrelos," the Orsimer grumbled. "I want to pound him into dust."

"And just who is this spirit that gave you two such trouble?" the Dark Elf muttered as he started towards the Spectral Assassin. "Don't tell me the Morag Tong is frightened by a little…"

Lucien let out a growl as he turned his head to scowl up at the Morag Tong's leader. The Mer's eyes widened in surprise and a twisted smile began to form on his lips.

"Well, what do we have we here?" the Dunmer chuckled as he stepped around Lachance so that he was standing before him. "We meet again."

"You know this ghost?" Ra'jiir asked as he scratched at his head.

"Oh, yes. It seems the infamous spirit of the Dark Brotherhood has come to pay our humble camp a visit."

"Othrelos," Lucien growled darkly. "I should have known you'd be lurking in the shadows somewhere."

"Let me guess, this was some dismal attempt at avenging your friend the jester?" the Mer asked as he crossed his arms. "The Dark Brotherhood aren't the only ones who travel in packs, specter."

The strain in Lachance's chest seemed to increase with every passing moment and he gritted his teeth as the aching worsened. "What have you done to me?"

"It's called Soul Trap, ghoul," Othrelos hissed as he pulled a grand soul gem from his satchel, "and unless you want to become a temporary enchantment in my blade, I suggest you behave yourself. "

"Impossible!" The assassin glared up at the master wizard. "That spell only affects mortals," he groaned, trying to fight through severe pressure that the spell was inflicting upon him.

"You work hard enough on something, you can make anything possible. I have been practicing magic for a very long time," Othrelos sneered as he began to circle Lachance like a hawk.

The spirit's eyes widened in shock as the realization hit him. In all his years of service to the Dread Father, he had never once been placed in a position as dangerous as this. He could take blows, he could take hazardous falls, he could even withstand a dragon's Shout, but that one simple little gem, could very well mean his end. Soul Trap was a treacherous spell, and all he could do was hope that the effects would wear off quickly.

"So how shall I address you?" Othrelos started as he smirked down at his ghostly captive. "Lucien? Mr. Lachance?" He then grinned wickedly. "Or do you prefer 'Buddy' as your dear Listener would have it?"

Lucien shot a fierce look up at the Dark Elf as he bore his teeth menacingly. No one outside the family had the right to call him by that title, and even then, KaNack was usually the only one given that privilege. "I will not stand for my name being belittled by the likes of you. If you must address me, show the proper respect and call me Mr. Lachance," the spirit hissed viciously at the elf.

The Dark Elf scoffed as he looked back at the other two members of his party. "He's a temperamental phantom, isn't he?" The Dunmer shook his head as he leered down at Lachance. "So they sent their guard dog after us? KaNack must not think very highly of me."

"None of us do," Lucien growled as he tried to ignore the pain. "Our jester laughed at your pitiful and crude attempt at his life." He glowered over at the other two assassins who were silently watching their leader at work. "You have made a mockery of the Dark Brotherhood and tainted its reputation. You will all face the wrath of Sithis," he threatened them.

"Your petty deity does not concern us," the elf snapped at the Spectral Assassin.

Lucien grunted as the pain continued and he shook his head. The ghost had no choice but to temporarily accept his defeat. "Why are you so intent on destroying us?" he asked as he scowled up at the elf.

"The Dark Brotherhood has had its reign of glory long enough! Everyone has heard of you, but they do not know that we came first! The Morag Tong! Long have we only been graced in the pages of history books. It had been said that one day we would rise again, and now that time has come. Every province in Skyrim will soon be hunting for your little band of brothers. With the Dark Brotherhood eliminated, the Morag Tong will once again be the true guild of assassins in Tamriel."

"The Morag Tong was made up of men of honor," the specter started coldly. "They were respected, feared and handled themselves with great dignity just as the Dark Brotherhood does today. The reason we have such high standards is because we were a product of that guild in Morrowind. You, however, are an insult to that faction of executioners," the spirit muttered darkly as he glared up at the elf. "You're most likely some cutthroat that took advantage of the Morag Tong's fall. You may have taken the name, but you possess none of its nobility," he growled quietly so that only Othrelos could have heard him.

"And what would the ghost of a lowly criminal know of the Morag Tong?" the Dunmer remarked as he frowned down at the ghostly Speaker.

"I'm right, aren't I?" hissed Lucien. "You were never a part of the Morag Tong. They wouldn't allow a wretch like you to be a part of their esteemed faction."

This caused the wizard to chuckle wickedly and he leaned down to whisper in the phantom's ear. "I was a part of the Morag Tong, specter. They simply did not appreciate my enthusiasm as my skills in magic grew stronger." He shrugged and rested a hand on the assassin's shoulder. "However, when the guild disbanded, someone had to be there to keep the name of the 'Morag Tong' alive."

This bit of news actually caused the Spectral Assassin to grin in amusement. The Dark Brotherhood spirit was not sure if the Morag Tong did still exist, but clearly they were not in Skyrim.

"You were cast out? Are you enjoying your game of 'make believe' then, sorcerer?"

Lucien tensed up when the Dunmer held out the grand soul gem in front of his face as a silent threat.

"I would choose my words more carefully if I were you, ghoul," the elf warned the Speaker darkly. "You are not better than me."

"I am better than you," Lucien said angrily. "I never pretended to be something I was not in the Brotherhood. Can you say the same, false guild master?"

Othrelos smirked and chuckled lightly as he patted the Spectral Assassin gently on the shoulder.

"You are a clever one, aren't you, Lachance?" the Mer asked, his eyes beaming with malice. "I see why that Argonian relies on you so much. I'd hate to think what he would do if I killed his favorite pet."

"I am not his PET," the ghost spat at Othrelos as he moved his head as far as he could from the soul gem. "I am his blade and his guide." He turned to glare up at the Dunmer. "Whenever he needs me, I am there to defend him."

"And where is he now that you need him, hmm?"

That made the Dark, Brotherhood spirit turn away from the mage, not able to answer the question.

"Oh," the Dark Elf started as he tilted his head in faux sympathy. "Isn't it sad when you find out that you truly don't matter to someone?"

"He doesn't know I'm out here," the ghost explained stiffly. The Spectral Assassin paused as he felt the pressure on his chest start to disperse. If he could keep the ploy up, he would be able to catch the executioner off guard.

"Really? So do you think if we told him of your whereabouts, he would grant us a temporary audience?"

"HAH!" the ghost laughed bitterly. "Your conceit is astounding if you think a devised notion like that will work on the Listener."

"I disagree; I've learned that he's stupid enough to make poor choices when his friends are in peril. He'd never let anything happen to you if he could help it," Othrelos remarked as he gave the spirit a mocking pat on the back of the head. "As my daughter has told me, you're his faithful hound."

Lucien's white eyes burned with fury and he had just about enough of the insufferable wizard. The assassin felt that a sufficient amount of the strain had lifted and the spirit once again produced his spectral blade in his hand.

As though expecting Lachance to make a move, the Dark Elf struck him again with the Soul Trap spell. The Spectral Assassin fell to the snow, writhing and screaming in agony as the sensation had become even worse than before. There was no pain in the Void, but in Tamriel there was more pain than one could ever fathom.

"You sly dead bastard!" he laughed. "Did you really think I didn't know the duration of my own spell?!" He turned to the stunned Khajiit and pointed a bony gray finger at him.

"Ra'jiir! Go down to that door and inform the Dark Brotherhood that we have their companion! That should get their leader to come out from hiding!"

The Khajiit gave a quick nod of his head, and started to hurry down the mountainside towards the town of Dawnstar. Othrelos took a knee and smiled down at Lachance as the spirit hugged his chest and trembled. Soul Trap was utter torture for him and the wizard knew that all too well.

"Pain is a horrible thing compared to the numbness of the Void, isn't it…Buddy?"

Lucien managed to give the Dark Elf a fierce look, but at this point the specter could no longer hide the fact that he was now at the mercy of the fraudulent Morag Tong leader.

"Let's see just how important you are to your faithful Listener."


	20. The Storm Arrives

The sanctuary was safe; no unwanted visitors could possibly enter the stronghold without knowing the code. All of the assassins could finally rest and recover from their strenuously encounters with the Morag Tong. Everyone in the Dark Brotherhood was getting some much needed sleep… well, almost everyone.

Cicero's wounds had been treated by the experienced hands and potions of both Babette and her Khajiit apprentice. He was still sore and in pain as his wounds could not be fully healed without a powerful restoration spell. He was willing to wait however, his friend needed rest and he didn't want to worry the Listener.

The Fool of Hearts was small and looked frail, but underneath that fragile looking form was a heart and soul that could rival no other. He was stubborn and tenacious and if there was one thing he would not do, it was disobey a direct order from his devoted Listener. It was his promise to his dearest friend that had given him the endurance he needed to survive the encounter with his would be executioner.

While everyone else was in bed, the jester remained by the Night Mother's side, patiently waiting for his friend from the Void to return. He knew that Lucien had gone out to slay the Khajiit and the fool could not relax until the ghost was back in the safety of the sanctuary.

"The kindly specter is strong, Mother. He will be back soon with news of the Morag Tong's death and you and the Dread Father will have another soul to empower you," Cicero whispered to the iron tomb next to him.

The Keeper hardly ever needed rest and would regularly spend the twilight hours talking to the Night Mother's coffin. The jester let out a deep sigh as he placed a gloved hand lovingly on the side of the Unholy Matron's sarcophagus. So long as he was with Mother, he felt that everything would be alright.

Cicero jumped in surprise when the tranquil silence was broken by a loud pounding on the Black Door. This was NOT Lachance! The Spectral Assassin was silent and proper; this obviously was some loathsome traveler who happened upon the door, most likely seeking shelter from the blizzard.

"How rude!" the fool snapped as his golden eyes narrowed to slits. "It's late! Very late! There should be no knocking, no!"

The Imperial rose from the raised platform and bowed politely to the coffin.

"Forgive me, Mother. Cicero must tell the impolite visitor to leave. Your humble servant will return. "

The jester tsked to himself as he started up the stairway, and paused at the door crossing his arms and glowering at the engraved skull grinning at him.

"Whatever you're selling, Cicero does not want it!" he barked. "There are no vacancies here! If you seek shelter, go to the town! If you wish services, come back once the storm has passed! We are eager to please, but we do not work in these inclement conditions!"

"Is that you, clown?" a voice snarled from the other side of the door. "Good, I need you to relay a message to your leader! Ra'jiir has some news that he might find interesting!"

The smile quickly vanished from the Keeper's face as he recognized the voice of his attempted slayer. It was slightly upsetting that the Spectral Assassin apparently had not killed the Khajiit yet and also allowed him to approach the Black Door.

"You again? Cicero thought you would have been dead by now! Go away, you cantankerous cat. You shall be sent to the Void in due time, but not by the Fool of Hearts! Someone else is going to have that privilege!"

"Aren't you referring to that blue transparent fellow? Your ghost friend came upon more than he bargained for!"

The jester took a step back and bared his teeth in a snarl at the executioner's declaration. "What's that? You speak of Lucien? You lie!" he hissed. "Vicious and wicked liar! How Cicero despises you! Lucien is too clever to be bested by a cat!"

"So sure of that?" the cat snickered. "Unlike the spirit, I did not come alone! I suggest you wake your Listener. The Morag Tong desires to once again meet with the Argonian! If he refuses, it will be his companion who suffers for it!"

"Lies! Lies! Lies!" the jester growled angrily at the door. "Even if you speak the truth, the kindly specter goes to the Void!" Cicero exclaimed. "Wicked and relentless pussycat! To the Void he goes and then back he comes! I was told to open this door for no one, and closed it shall remain!"

"To the Void? Othrelos will do much worse to him!" threatened the Khajiit. The mentioning of the ancient wizard caused the Keeper to stiffen up. He had seen what the Dunmer had done to his friend before and there was no question that the sorcerer could have overpowered Lachance.

"There will be no Void for your ghoul if your leader does not come out! His soul will be destroyed and that will be the end of the Dark Brotherhood spirit! Will you listen to Ra'jiir or do you not care about your friend?"

Cicero body stiffened as he heard the cat's words. The fool was good at recognizing a bluff when he heard one, but without seeing the scoundrel's face, he couldn't be sure. The last he had seen the Spectral Assassin; he had been storming off to finish the Imperial's dirty work. Lachance was very clever and would not have been caught easily; the merry man could not just rely on the executioner's words alone that the kindly specter was in danger, he needed proof.

"You are trying to trick Gullible Cicero!"the jester barked, not willing to believe the cat's threat. "How does Cicero know you speak the truth?"

"You want proof? He seemed rather responsive when Othrelos called him 'Buddy," the Khajiit growled, getting annoyed with the Keeper's hesitation to comply. "That is what your simple group of murderers lovingly calls him. Is that enough proof for you?"

"By Sithis," the jester hissed as he backed away from the door. The only explanation for the wretched feline knowing the Listener's nickname for the Spectral Assassin would have been if he was with the Morag Tong.

The Imperial spun on his heels and began running through the sanctuary the best as he could with his aching leg as he started screaming for the Listener. The Fool of Hearts' shrieking pulled everyone from their slumber and assassins began to appear, exhausted and slightly annoyed by Cicero's screeching. They were used to his eccentric behavior, but the Keeper had never been as loud and frantic as he was now.

By the time the jester had reached KaNack's room, the Argonian was already up waiting from him outside of his chambers. The mage looked exhausted in the wrinkled shroud of his Dark Brotherhood robes and his body was still aching from his encounter with Brelyna's lightning.

"By Sithis, what is going on?" the reptile grumbled as he rubbed at his eyes. "Cicero, I'm very tired. This had better be important."

"Listener," Cicero cried as he grabbed his friend fiercely by the shoulders. "The Morag Tong has Lucien! They're going to kill Lucien!"

The news caused KaNack to pull away from the Imperial and stare at him in shock. "What? What do you mean they have him?"

"The kindly specter went out to kill a spying executioner! I do not know how the fiends did it, but they knew your name for him! They must have Lucien!"

A rush of fury ran through the Argonian's body as he stormed past the frantic Keeper. Cicero hurried after the reptile, trying desperately to hobble after him, still suffering from the stab wound. The mage was so wound up in his anger that he did not even notice that his friend was limping. Only one thought was running through his head; find Lachance and kill whoever had him.

On any other day, KaNack would have been able to think clearly and easily rectified the situation. The combination of his pain, Brelyna's scorn, and losing Onmund and Shaleez, the Argonian was not in the most practical state of mind.

Simply summoning two of his conjurations would have returned the Spectral Assassin to the Void no matter where he was. There was only one in the sanctuary currently who understood the Arcane arts enough to remind the mage of this fact, and she was not speaking to him.

Vytalas poked his head out of the entrance of his room just as the Listener and Keeper charged past.

The Breton had been frozen to the bone after having been buried under the snow for too long and was sick with a fever and chill. Babette had done the best she could with her medicinal skills, but only bed rest and time would tell if the girl would make it. The Brotherhood's archer had refused to leave her side for one moment since he had brought her back to Dawnstar. The Dunmer had been jolted from his sleep by the piercing cries of the Imperial, however, but the fool was too far away to be able to make out what had alarmed the small man.

"Vy?" Kaie called weakly from her bed as she looked out to her lover. "What's going on?"

"The Listener and Cicero are in a fit. Something's wrong," he muttered quietly as he turned to give her a look of concern.

"Go after them. They could need help."

"Whatever it is, they can handle it. I'd rather be here with you," the Mer insisted as he returned to the bed and sat down on the foot of it.

"You've done all you can. If the Brotherhood is in danger, then it's your duty to assist." The girl smiled sweetly at him as she settled her head deeper into the pillow. "Go after them. You know you have to."

The archer let out a heavy sigh as he leaned forward and kissed her on the temple. "Don't you dare leave me while I'm gone."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Vy."

The elf rose from the bed and hurried out to catch up with the infuriated Argonian. Seeing their leader storming through the chambers caused the other members of the Dark Brotherhood to start trailing after him as well. None were aware of the current situation, but seeing the Keeper as frantic as he was could only mean that something horrible had happened.

Cicero finally managed to speed up enough so that he was now beside his sprinting friend. "The executioner said that Othrelos is with them and that he has a way of keeping Lucien from the Void! What treachery is this, Listener? Tell Cicero that this is a lie!" the jester cried.

This only caused the mage's inner fire to burn hotter. He knew how dangerous the Morag Tong's warlock was, but he was too mad to care.

A dark energy began to simmer deep within the pit of his soul as KaNack entered the main chamber of the sanctuary; a sensation similar to when Sithis himself had taken over his body in Falkreath.

The Argonian paused when he reached the stairwell leading to the Black Door as he overheard confused muttering behind him. The red and black reptile spun around to see almost every assassin in the sanctuary now standing before him; confused and looking for answers.

"Othrelos has Lucien," the mage announced grimly. "Don't worry; I'm going to get him back."

"What are we waiting for?" Dro'marash hissed as his ears flattened against his head and his tail swished angrily. "Let's go! Nothing can stop us if we all work together!"

"I won't have any of you risking yourselves against that sorcerer and this incoming blizzard!" the Listener stated. "I want you all to stay here. No one is to leave the safety of this sanctuary, do you understand?"

"Are you mad?" snapped Vytalas as he stepped forward. "Can't you see that Lachance is being used as bait? I am not going to just let you walk into this alone!"

"I wasn't giving you an option, Vy," the mage growled as he held out his hand to stop the Dunmer from ascending the stairwell.

"Lucien tried to face the Morag Tong alone and look what happened!" Nazir barked as he approached the stubborn Black Hand leader. "We all should have known better! If you are insistent on getting the Dark Brotherhood spirit back, we have to work together as a family!"

"No one else is going to die because of me!" the reptile shouted as electricity began to crackle from his fingertips. "I can't focus on what I must do if I have to worry about your lives!"

"This is nonsense! Lucien is Dro's friend too!" the Khajiit exclaimed. "Let us help you, Listener! This Khajiit is small but he can still fight!"

"I've been training with the spirit for years," the Dunmer said proudly. "We're not novices anymore. You won't have to worry about protecting us. We can take care of ourselves."

"I'm sorry, Vy," the Black Hand leader muttered as he turned around and starting climbing the steps. "That is a chance I am not willing to take."

"To Oblivion with that!" the elf snarled as he hurried after the mage and grabbed him by the arm. "I'm coming with you whether you like it or not!"

"FUS!"

The Mer was sent flying backwards and into Dro'marash sending the two assassins crashing to the floor.

"KaNack!" Babette snapped as her eyes glowed brightly in shock and anger. "What in Sithis is going on through your head?!"

"I said STAY!" the Argonian roared as a hint of flame shot from his mouth. "They already killed Shaleez! I am not going to lose another one of you to those executioners!"

Nazir frowned and cautiously approached the emotional Dark Brotherhood leader. If the mage was willing to Shout at his own assassins to try and get them to stay behind, he would not hesitate to do the same to him.

"We don't want to lose you either, KaNack," he insisted patiently. "You've already fallen before Orthrelos and you were lucky enough to have Lachance to get you out of there with your life."

"That's just it," the Argonian said quietly. "If what Cicero said is true and they can destroy his soul, then I have to at least try and save him." He shook his head. "I have no doubt that that wizard would target anyone else who tries to accompany me outside of this sanctuary. He knows how to hurt me, Nazir. The rest of you coming along would only give him another opportunity to slay someone in my family."

"He's going to kill you, KaNack," the Redguard said quietly so that the others could not hear him. "You do realize that?"

"I'm not afraid to die," the mage stated bitterly as he started back towards the door. "However, I want you to believe in me." The reptile turned to smile down at the jester who was helping Vytalas to his feet. "Cicero's faith has never wavered. Not once in all the years I've known him. I ask you now to do the same."

The older assassin grumbled and placed a hand on the Argonian's shoulder. "Sithis be with you, you fool."

KaNack nodded his head and he returned the kind gesture. "I'm going to get our Brother back, Nazir. I am relying on you to look after the family until I get back."

"They won't be in better hands, my Listener," the Redguard announced proudly as he took a few steps back and allowed the Black Hand leader to leave to face the Morag Tong alone.

Cicero's fingers danced across each other as he watched his dearest friend vanish up the stairwell. "He's mad," the jester muttered quietly before a wicked smile began to creep up his face. "Someone up there is going to burn."

* * *

Ra'jiir rubbed his hands together and blew into them trying to warm himself as he paced in front of the shoreline. The winds had temporarily died down, but a few flakes of snow had begun to fall. The storm was coming and there was a deathly chill in the air that made him long for the warm sands of his homeland. Skyrim was much too cold for his liking, and the Khajiit found keeping warm extremely difficult while in Dawnstar.

The cat's ears perked up and he turned around when he heard the scraping sound of a door. The Morag Tong's blue eyes gleamed with delight with what he saw. The black and red Argonian had appeared and shut the Black Door behind him. The reptile slowly approached the executioner, his head held low as he trudged through the snow. Ra'jiir reveled in the sight before him; the Listener already looked like a defeated man.

"Ah, so that idiot finally gave you our message? Ra'jiir knew that you were too fond of your little pet to simply…"

In mere moments, everything changed. KaNack's head shot up, his white eyes wide and glowing with fury and his upper lip curled up to reveal sharp teeth in a snarl of rage. Flames erupted from the Argonian's hands and released an animal like roar as he charged at the startled executioner.

"Wait! WAIT!" the Morag Tong member cried in desperation as he held up his hands submissively. In seconds the Argonian had gone from defeated to murderous.

The cat was knocked hard to the ground and his head throbbed as it came into contact with the hand and stiff sand of the Dawnstar shore. Re'jiir yowled in fright as KaNack held his burning hand by the terrified Khajiit's face. Now it had gone from a bitter cold to an overbearing scalding heat.

"Where is he?!" the Listener screamed in the executioner's face.

Ra'jiir's ears folded back as he stared up at the enraged Dark Brotherhood leader that had him pinned to the ground. The white of KaNack's eyes glowed brightly with fury, and flames were starting to flicker from his mouth as he panted angrily. The Khajiit had never seen pure undiluted rage before, but was sure that this was what wrath incarnate looked like.

Not getting an answer quick enough, the mage shot the fireball next to Ra'jiir's head. The cat screeched and smoke lifted from his singed fur.

"Please! Please stop!"

"WHERE IS HE?!" KaNack screamed even louder, his words were now spewing from his mouth as licks of flame. His anger was rising to a level he had never experienced before. The threat on placed on Lucien's life was enough to bring forth the inner inferno to a much more dangerous level.

The cat frantically pointed up to the mountains in the distance desperate to do whatever he could to pull the Listener's focus from him.

"There! There! Othrelos has him there!" Ra'jiir exclaimed, panicked and terrified at the menacing creature that loomed over him. "Let Ra'jiir go! I will show you the way! Ra'jiir will take you there!"

"No," KaNack growled darkly as he gazed furiously down at the Khajiit. "You won't." The mage's head slowly lowered so that he was nose to nose with the executioner. "Cat, you were one of the executioners who tried to kill my wife in Solitude."

The feline swallowed and shook his head frantically.

"Please! Please show Ra'jiir mercy! You are capable of embracing love so easily! Surely your heart is not so black that you cannot find room to forgive?"

"All…hail…Sithis," were spoken the words in a guttural and demonic tone.

Ra'jiir frantically tried to free himself from under the Argonian, but his life had been forfeited the moment he came to Proudspire and tried to take his beloved Dunmer from him.

"YOL TOOR SHUL!"

There was a midst of horrified shrieks and howls of agony as all of KaNack's inner flames erupted from deep within and spewed forth to engulf Ra'jiir. The shrieks were piecing but Argonian reveled in them as he soaked in all the pain and terror. He savored every second that the Khajiit suffered and being kept from the merciful release of death. Sadly though, the screaming eventually had to come to a stop. All that was left was of Othrelos' messenger was charred corpse, frozen in an expression of anguish and terror.

KaNack growled darkly as he rose from the icy shore and turned to look up at the mountainous area in the distance where he had been directed.

Snow was beginning to fall harder; the dangerous storm was here and conditions were only going to worsen. Normally, this would drive the mage to retreat back into the warm sanctuary, but he refused to pass the Black Door without Lachance.

He let out an angry snort as he trudged forward to the treacherous and winding cliffs where the Morag Tong was hiding. Neither the threat of an ancient wizard nor a deadly blizzard was going to stand in the Black Hand leader's way.

The mage considered all the members of his Brotherhood family. There were two whom the Argonian had grown to become so protective of, however, that it was borderline suicide to threaten either of them.

One was the Fool of Hearts; Maro learned that lesson the hard way when he took the Argonian's dearest friend. The other was Lucien Lachance; KaNack's mentor, protector, and guide.

Steam flowed from the reptile's mouth as he struggled up the mountain. The path was steep and the terrain harsh, but he was not going to slow down. The winds had begun to blow harder when the Listener made it to the top of the ridge. That was where his anger was quickly replaced with shock.

Lucien was struggling to stay on his feet, his spectral blade grasped in hand not yet ready to surrender to the Dunmer.

"Please, do try it once more," the Mer snorted as his hand glowed a bright purple in color. "See if this feeble attempt to strike me will actually do you any good this time."

The Speaker lunged at the Mer with a swing of his blade only to be struck with Soul Trap for his trouble. The spell overtook the ghost and Lachance collapsed into to the snow with a cry of pain as the last of his strength had been taken with the warlock's cast.

"OTHRELOS!" the Listener screamed towards the Morag Tong leader. This got the elf's attention and the wizard could not help but smile at the Argonian. The last time they had met, the sorcerer had nearly turned him to ash, so the Dark Brotherhood leader's arrival was nothing short of a success in his mind.

"Through icy winds and perilous paths you came!" he laughed. "I told the specter that you would come, but he wouldn't believe me!" The elf folded his arms as he leered at the enraged reptile. "Where is my messenger?"

"Deep in the Void, suffering the wrath of Sithis," KaNack growled darkly.

"He's dead then?" the elf asked in disinterest. "Pity. Well, you win some, you lose some," he stated with a shrug of his shoulders. The Dunmer took his time as he moved closer to Lucien. The specter was struggling to get back up to once again try and fight. "I am sure that you felt a little more remorse when your poor protégé fell back in Winterhold."

KaNack felt a twinge of disgust as the Dark Elf placed his boot onto the back of Lachance's head and pushed him down into the snow.

"I don't have the same kind of pathetic attachments to my associates that you do."

Othrelos' disrespect did not last long. The Dark Elf summoned a ward up at the last moment, avoiding KaNack's deadly casting of chain lightning.

"Who do you think you are?!" the mage roared as he began to approach the ancient warlock. "That's Lucien Lachance! Renowned speaker for the Black Hand! He lived and died a loyal member of the Brotherhood, you fetcher! Just being in his presence is an honor in itself! I will NOT allow you to disrespect him like that!"

"Hold you forked tongue, reptile!" Othrelos snarled as he knelt down and pulled Lachance into a sitting position. With the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood weakened, he easily restrained the Speaker. To keep the Black Hand leader at bay, the Morag Tong warlock unsheathed his glass sword and positioned it under the Spectral Assassin's throat.

"Lucien!"

"You've been a mage long enough to realize that I cast Soul Trap on him," the executioner growled at the reptile. "You know that if I kill him that he won't be returning to the Void. The Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood will be destroyed. " The elf's eyes narrowed. "Let me see those claws, Argonian. I am familiar with the art of conjuration. You won't be pulling another one of your cheap stunts like you did back in Falkreath!"

KaNack trembled in fury, but slowly held his hands out so that the wizard could see them. It wasn't until that moment that he realized that all of this could have been avoided. He could have returned Lucien to the safety of the Void, but between all the drama of the last twenty-four hours and his blinding anger towards the Morag Tong, his judgment had been clouded. Othrelos was now holding all the cards.

"Have you no respect for your own kind?" the mage asked the Dark Elf furiously. "Dark Brotherhood or Morag Tong, he is still a legend amongst ALL assassins!"

"No, he is honorable amongst your group of criminals!" the Dunmer shot back nastily. "He was the worst! Sneaking in and out! Slitting throats like a coward! Poisoning lowlifes and pirates! The Dark Brotherhood has always been the same! A guild of unlawful murderers!"

The Argonian began to pace as he became restless. Any attack on the warlock could lead to the permanent destruction of one of his dearest friends. He already lost Shaleez and Onmund and did not want the Morag Tong to take Lachance from him as well. All he could do was hold his ground and wait for an opportunity to present itself.

"Unlike the Brotherhood, the Morag Tong had the right to print writs of executions," the Dunmer continued. "We are the ones who truly had honor! You and your dogs go off and slay people outside of the law. You're nothing but fetching murderers and you have the gall to consider us the wretches?"

"You're a liar," the ghost managed to mutter weakly. "You never had that honor."

"Be silent, spirit," the Dunmer hissed as he kept his red eyes locked with the Argonian's.

"I'm not the one hiding behind a hostage," the mage remarked bitterly as his eyes narrowed. "Where's the honor in that, Othrelos?" KaNack's hands turned into fists and began to smoke despite his attempt to control his anger. "You mutilated and shamed a fellow Dunmer! You spilled innocent blood and framed the Dark Brotherhood for your own brutal slayings! Where is the honor in that? Where is this honor you speak of, Othrelos? For you have presented none to me!" he shouted furiously at the Morag Tong leader.

Ever since the Spectral Assassin had been first summoned before the Argonian, he always remained strong and composed, making it a point to never appear weak in front of him

KaNack had been unsure of himself when he had been named the new leader of the Dark Brotherhood; the mage turned to Lachance for guidance during that trying time. It seemed whenever the Argonian doubted himself, the Spectral Assassin had always been there to guide him.

Lucien gritted his teeth in frustration. All of his concerns had been callously dismissed by the Brotherhood since the whole incident with the Morag Tong began. It was as though nothing had changed and once more he was the nameless specter that was only brought forth when he was deemed useful.

Lachance, however, was more furiously at himself at the moment than anything. Over the years he allowed himself to become close to the members of the Dawnstar Sanctuary, and that was a mistake.

With the Keeper almost killed, the Speaker ignored his own instincts and allowed emotion instead to guide him. He had been so confident that the worst the Morag Tong could do was return him to the Void; and that conceit landed him in this shameful position. The spirit of the Dark Brotherhood had been reduced to a bargaining chip. It was appalling and disgraceful.

"Kill him," the spirit whispered quietly. The pain had weakened him, but he was not going to allow the Morag Tong imposter to manipulate the Dark Brotherhood. "Kill him," he managed to growl out louder. Lucien's eyes opened wide as he glowered out towards KaNack. "Take me with him if you must, but KILL HIM!"

Lachance knew that the Listener still had Dro'marash's poison in his possession. All the Argonian needed to do was coat the Blade of Woe and strike the ancient wizard with it. Othrelos had been stunned once before by his Shout. If the Dunmer released his grip on the spirit to cast a ward, he would leave himself open to a spectral blade to the abdomen. If he decided to keep Lucien restrained, the Mer would be an easy target for the might of the Dragonborn's voice.

"Lucien," the mage whispered quietly. KaNack's anger diminished with the Speaker's desperate plea to end Othrelos' life. The specter's frustration increased when he saw that the Listener had no intention whatsoever to risk sacrificing him for the greater good.

The sudden change in the mage's temperament caused the Dunmer to laugh loudly as he kept his blade to Lachance's neck.

"Still so arrogant!" he scoffed at the ghost. "Do you think for one moment that the lizard is going to let you die simply because YOU asked it of him? He won't attack me because his love for you is too great!"

The Spectral Assassin growled as the wizard pressed his blade harder against his throat, forcing his head to lift slightly.

"A legend of the Brotherhood is going to die up here, Lachance," he whispered into the spirit's ear. "It's not going to be you though." The elf's red eyes turned to look back at the Listener. "Not if he has anything to say about it."

"Enough of these games!" KaNack snapped pointing furiously at the Morag Tong leader. "I'm the one you really want to destroy, aren't I?! You are supposed to be a powerful warlock! Release Lucien and face me, coward!"

"I could do that. You are not worthy of wasting my magicka on, however," the executioner smirked. "Fear not, a Morag Tong shall still spill your blood. I didn't have you come all the way up here just to stand around in the snow like an imbecile."

The sorcerer felt the ghost start to weakly try and pull loose making his grip tighten. "Now, be an obedient little lizard and stay right there." Othrelos turned his head to look back at the Orc who had been standing quietly to the side during the entire encounter. "Mul, make his end one for the history books."

The Orsimer made his way from the campfire to join his leader's side. His eyes began to glow a bright yellow and a low a growl rumbled deep in the Orc's throat. Mul's body began to twist and contort. His kneecaps cracked as they modified to better suit the beast that was making its way out.

"You see, Argonian," Othrelos remarked as his red eyes burned with malice, seeing that despite the reptile's brave front there was fear in his eyes, "the Companion, Farkas, gave one of my executioners a very special gift. With his spilled blood, he blessed Mul with unfathomable strength and destructive capabilities."

"I can see that," KaNack answered quietly. "Don't have the guts to face me yourself, do you? Afraid that you can't get the job done so you need your slobbering mutt to do it?" he scoffed. "Some mighty leader you are, Othrelos."

"You fool!" Lucien barked as he glared at KaNack furiously. The Listener was not casting and he was not Shouting. The mage was standing there patiently waiting for the werewolf to tear into him. "What are you doing? Fight back! Use your voice!"

"I Shout or attack and they'll destroy you, Lucien!" the Argonian exclaimed in desperation. "I can't just let you disappear after all you've done for me!" KaNack kept his eyes locked with his Spectral Assassin. "I am not going to be the one responsible for the obliteration of your soul!"

"Stupid whelp!" the ghost snarled. "He's going to kill everyone in…"

Lachance's voice was cut off when the Dark Elf's blade was pushed harder to his throat.

"Now, now, Lucien!" Othrelos scolded. "If the lad wants to sacrifice himself for you, shouldn't we respect his wishes?" He chuckled as the spirit continued to try and free himself from the warlock with what little strength he had. "A living man willing to die in a ghost's place?" he asked as he looked over at the infuriated reptile. "It would be touching if it weren't so pathetic."

KaNack entire body tensed as Mul's transformation came to an end and the gargantuan beast gazed at the Argonian hungrily. With the werewolf adjusting to the new form and Othrelos' focus suddenly being placed on his newly shifted executioner, the mage decided now was the time to act. One last chance to save himself and his spiritual guardian. The mage sucked in a deep breath and held his head up high.

"OD AH VIING!"

Both Mul and Othrelos cringed at the deafening sound, expecting the Shout to hit them. It instead it harmlessly echoed across the mountainside. The two Morag Tongs looked around expectantly, not knowing what Thu'um the Dragonborn had used. After a few moments, the warlock took it as a sign that nothing was to come from the Shout.

"HAH!" the Dunmer laughed viciously as he leered at the mage. "Of all the Shouts you could have used, THAT was the one you chose?!" The elf could only shake his head and chuckle wickedly. "Oh, you dismal reptile, I am go to revel seeing this white land painted crimson with your blood!"

KaNack's body stiffened, now he had to face the ravenous beast before him. Mul's lips curled up in a snarl revealing rows of large and sharp fangs, saliva dripped from his hideous maw as he glowered at his prey.

"Let the legend of the Dragonborn die with you!" Othrelos' head spun to the side to stare fiercely at the large wolf beside him. "Tear him to pieces!"

Mul released a bellowing howl that was deafening in the resonance of the mountains and charged forward at the Dark Brotherhood leader.

KaNack crouched back in a casting position and a bright ward surrounded him. He would not be able to attack the Morag Tong without sacrificing his specter in the process, but he could still protect himself. The beast roared and swung his claws violently at the Argonian, but the deadly swings scraped along the shell of the ward harmlessly. Mul growled and snarled as he kept swiping relentlessly at the ward.

"Oh, clever boy!" Othrelos exclaimed as his eyes widened with delight. "You aren't going to just lay down and die? Good for you!" The twisted smile remained on his face as he watched his executioner try and penetrate the mage's spell. "It must be taking a lot of your magicka to produce a ward that powerful! How long do you think you can you keep that shield up?"

"Hopefully long enough," KaNack growled under his breath as he tried to keep his focus on casting the ward. He needed to stall; he needed to keep the Morag Tong distracted long enough for his plan to work. It was his only chance to get both Lucien and himself back to the Sanctuary. With every tear that the wolf bore into the ward, the weaker it became.

Lachance could only gaze in horror as his caster's power ran out and the ward evaporated from around the mage. Mul swung his claws once more and the strike sent KaNack flying into a large rock formation. The Listener crumbled into a fetal position from the impact and hugged himself. Blood began to pool into the white snow from three large gashes in his torso. All the Argonian could do was lay there as Mul stalked forward, his yellow eyes fixated on his prey.

"Wonderful," the Dunmer chuckled quietly, eager for the bloodshed that was about to ensue. "I want you to watch this Lachance! History is about to repeat itself!"

Lucien's teeth clenched in fury as the warlock forced him to look at the carnage before him.

"Once again a Listener is going to be slain before you," the Dark Elf hissed to the Spectral Assassin, "and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

KaNack squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the Void as Mul growled loudly and lifted a clawed hand into the air, preparing for the final blow. The werewolf halted his attack when a loud yet rhythmic sound of air gusts began to resonate through the mountains. The shifted executioner paused and began to look around in confusion.

"What in Oblivion is that?" Othrelos muttered as he looked left and right, trying to find the source of the sound.

"DOVAHKIIN, I have come!"

The Morag Tong leader's head shot upwards, and his jaw dropped as a colossal red dragon hovered over them. The Dovah quickly lowered and landed forcefully on the mountain making the earth tremble beneath him.

"PAAL, LUFT DOV BAH!" Odahviing roared before his head shot forward and Mul was grasped between his powerful jaws. The werewolf wailed and howled in terror and pain as the dragon shook him as though he were nothing but a ragdoll. With one swing of his mighty head, the dragon released the Morag Tong's monster and Mul smashed lifelessly into the snow in a mangled heap.

Othrelos had seen more than enough took off down the side of the mountain, disappearing into the snow storm. His powers were great, but he was not prepared to face a fierce dragon.

With the foes disposed of, Odahviing turned his attention back to the Argonian and spread out one of his wings to protect the smaller reptile from the falling snow. KaNack managed to get himself into a sitting position and his hands began to glow a bright golden color as he healed himself.

" You're hurt, KROSIS, I did not come fast enough," the large dovah rumbled.

"It's fine Odahviing," the mage sighed as his restoration magic began to relieve him of most of the pain. "The important thing is that I'm still breathing."

The Argonian's eyes then widened, he had almost completely forgotten about why he had come up there in the first place.

"Lucien!"

The dragon's head followed KaNack as the Listener rushed from under the security of his wing towards to the limp blue form that was starting to get blanketed in white. The Argonian practically dove into the ground and frantically brushed the snow off of his spiritual guardian. The mage gently eased his spectral companion into a sitting position but was greeting with an aggravated growl.

"Damn you, KaNack. You should have killed him when you had the chance," he hissed as he gave the Argonian a dark look. "Do you have any idea how close you were to letting him win?"

"He's lost two of his men in Dawnstar and both of us are still here," the mage answered simply. "I'd call that a victory."

"FOOL!" the ghost snarled viciously. KaNack clambered away from the Spectral Assassin as the spirit swung a fist at his head. Still weak, Lachance planted his hands on the ground to keep from falling back into the snow. "What have you done?!"

"I…I protected you," KaNack managed to stutter out, shocked at the ghost's reaction.

"You let him get away! Othrelos is gone! He's going to continue to drag the Dark Brotherhood name into the pits of Oblivion! The death and devastation would have stopped or at least have been crippled if you had killed him! You could have ended him, but you chose instead to bend to his whims!" The ghost's head shot up and he glared furiously at the Listener. "WHY?!"

"For you!" the Argonian cried out. He began to squint as the snow storm grew worse and it was getting harder to see his transparent friend.

"And WHO am I?!" Lachance demanded viciously as he glowered at the mage. "I am but one of the many souls in the Void! But YOU! You selfish child! You would have allowed the Dark Brotherhood to be sacrificed in my place!"

"The Dark Brotherhood will not fall Lucien! You are kidding yourself though if you think you aren't a vital part of it! You are the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood!"

"I am just a man who happened to be in the scroll Astrid gave to you!" he barked viciously. "Would it have been different if it were some other thrall from the Void? Some nameless Silencer?! The Dark Brotherhood needs its Listener; it doesn't need me there to keep it alive!"

"I need you!" the mage cried out in desperation. "As far back as I can remember after becoming the Listener you were always there for me! When the Penitus Oculatus ambushed me in Solitude, when the family had been murdered in Falkreath, when I had been poisoned in the dungeons of Volunruud, you were always there!"

"You let your heart get the best of you! You should have destroyed Othrelos and allowed me to die!"

"I have said this before, Lucien! We're all a family!" KaNack growled in frustration. Lachance's teeth clenched together as the Argonian continued. "I am not going to allow anyone else in this family to die!"

"WE'RE NOT A FAMILY!" the ghost roared at him furiously. "Ever since my soul was imprinted into that scroll I was simply meant to be used as an extra blade in battle! You decided to try and make me something I am not!"

"I'm not your companion! I'm not your brother! I'm your sword!" the enraged spirit proclaimed as he pounded his fist into the snow to emphasize his point. "You think being able to summon me was something special?! There have been at least twenty before you, and none of them would have crumbled the way you did back there! What makes you think my duty to you was more important than it had been for them?!"

KaNack had been stabbed, burned, poisoned, thrashed and throttled, but none of these pains compared to the wounding pierce of the specter's words. Small tufts of white mist puffed from his mouth as he tried to speak, but no words came.

"Lost your voice, have you?" Lachance muttered darkly. "As you once told me, boy. Actions can be deafening, but words can sting." The Spectral Assassin looked to the ground angrily as a blanket of snow began to once again coat him. "You should have made that Dunmer suffer and cast him into the Void, but you allowed your emotions to cloud your judgment." He then scoffed as he shut his eyes. "That wizard was right, you are weak."

The Argonian's head dropped as the tears began to crawl down his face. He had wept many times in the presence of Lucien Lachance, but this had been the first time that the ghost had been the cause of it.

"I thought we were brothers," he whispered.

"When I was a living man, we might have been," Lucien answered sternly, "but dwelling in the past has never accomplished anything. Understand what must come first in the Dark Brotherhood. The Listener is more vital than one petty soul. Never allow your enemies to manipulate you like that or the Dark Brotherhood will fall." The spirit's head lifted and Lucien could see the heartbreak and pain in the Argonian's eyes when the mage stared back to him. The mage was seeking some inclination that the Spectral Assassin did not mean his brutal words, but the dead stare of the white eyes were free of any glimmer of compassion.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," the spirit muttered bitterly. "You have real brothers to lead into battle. They will get hurt, and more may fall, but they need a leader who will not fall to pieces when that happens." Lucien shut his eyes in frustration and exhaustion.

"I think I've taught you all you need to know to lead your Brotherhood, KaNack. Man up and don't allow compassion to get yourself killed. You are a cold blooded merciless assassin; start acting like one." He picked his head back up to glare at the reptile. "Now, return me to the Void. I've spent more than enough time here already."

"As you wish…Lucien," the Argonian answered sadly. He held out his hands and blue light emanated from them. The mage cast the orbs of blue energy into the snow produced his ghostly wolf, Fang, and his flame atronach, April.

"Back…to…the Void," Lachance whispered before vanishing into a pile of blue ash into the snow.

Both of the conjurations started towards Kanack, eager to find out what he wanted, but were just as quickly removed from the plane. The Argonian desired no conjured company at that moment.

Odahviing stretched his neck over so that his head was next to the Argonian, and the Listener turned to peer into the large black eyes of the Dovah.

"DOVAHKIIN," the dragon started. "I will watch over the area, VAHLOK. This storm will be great, but if any try to invade your territory I will stop them."

"Thank you, Odahviing," the mage answered softly as he gently patted the beast's snout.

The ridge trembled as the red dragon turned himself around as he prepared to once again take to the skies. Sensing his smaller dov's sorrow, Odahviing twisted his neck to glance down at the mage. "If it eases your pain any, I do not think you are weak. NOK SAHLO."

The dragon spread open it wings and once again flew off to begin circling the small town Dawnstar, not at all affected by the fierce snow or bitter cold. The Listener was left alone on the mountain with just the howling winds to keep him company. He had fought so hard to keep his family alive, and despite his victory, it felt like a great failure to him. He had climbed that mountain to save a friend, but in the end he lost brother.


	21. Resignation

Lachance felt a heavy sensation lift from his chest once he found himself in the familiar shadowy realm that was the Void. No matter how much pain he was in or what emotion he was consumed by in Tamriel's plane, it would always vanish once he returned to his true home.

No longer in the mortal plane, Lucien found himself no longer transparent or blue, but solid. He let out a deep sigh as his anger and frustration melted away and he could feel his strength starting to return. He had never been as furious with the Listener as he had been moments ago, but the numbness of the Void made him start to forget his negative emotions.

"Back already? That didn't take long."

The Speaker turned and spotted a thrall making his way over to him, standing out amongst the realm of black mountains and gray skies. Over the years he had become very familiar with this particular soul, as this was the one he had been training to be a guardian for the Dawnstar sanctuary.

The lad had been killed young and was therefore stuck in the body of a young man, but under Lachance's instruction he was more than prepared to fight and defend the Dark Brotherhood should any ever dare try and invade their sanctuary.

The Imperial brushed a few strands of long brown hair from his face before drawing his sword and holding it out threateningly towards the assassin. His smile broadened as he prepared to spar with the Spectral Assassin. His Penitus Oculatus armor glistened in the faint hints of light that existed in the dark realm, but had deep punctures and scrapes in it that told the story of how the boy had met his grizzly end.

"No sneaking up on me this time, Lachance. Let's see you knock me across the head when I have the upper hand!" He swung his sword and the Speaker easily sidestepped it while looking very disinterested. "Have at you!"

"I am in no mood to work with you now, Finn," the assassin remarked grimly as he walked away from the thrall. "Go spar with Elias or someone else if you wish to fight."

"If you don't wish to spar, how about a riddle?" the Imperial asked as he sheathed his short sword and hurried after the man who had been training him for close to a year in the cold abyss of the Void.

"Finn," Lachance rubbed at his eyes in slight frustration as the lad did not seem to understand that he desired no company at the moment. The man was not upset; he simply wanted some peace and quiet.

"You removed my skin, yet I have not bled. I cried not, but tears you shed. What am I?"

"I am in no mood for riddles," the assassin grumbled as he continued to wander the vast wastes of the Void. "And the answer is an onion."

The young thrall frowned as he sensed that something was amiss. "Did something happen to the Brotherhood out there?" the agent asked as he continued to trail behind the Speaker like an obedient puppy. "You've never returned so soon after being summoned before."

"There was some unpleasant business, yes," Lucien answered, not feeling angry or saddened. "It is not a matter that needs to be discussed with you, however." The Speaker paused and glanced over his shoulder at the young thrall who still pursued him. "There are to be no lessons today, boy. Let me be."

"You looked angrier than usual when you returned," Finn remarked as he stood alongside the chosen soul of Sithis. "Did it have anything to do with this Morag Tong matter you spoke to me of?"

"They are not the Morag Tong," Lachance answered simply. "They are merely a group of skilled cutthroats who are playing a dismal game of dress up."

"You said that there was unpleasantness. Was anyone hurt? Cicero is still safely kept in the sanctuary, correct?"

"Actually, the Keeper came very close to joining you here," the assassin stated quietly. "It would have been a very interesting way for the two of you to once again be united." Lachance shook his head. "The man is not killed so easily though. It may be some time before he ever graces the Void with his presence."

"Oh, Lucien," a soft feminine voice gently called out from the shadows. "What have you done?"

The Spectral Assassin turned around and a grimaced formed on his face at the sight of the beautiful creature approaching him.

There She was, sleek gray skin, piercing red eyes and a smile that could bring the strongest of men to their knees. The Dark Elf took her time as she approached the Speaker, her earthy toned dress flowing gently despite the absence of wind.

The Night Mother had chosen to once again pay the Speaker a visit and the man was more than a little tentative of her sudden appearance. The Void was absent of passions such as happiness, anger or sorrow, but the Unholy Matron carried with her a most unusual aura. It caused any thrall who came too close to succumb to their emotions no matter what the sentiment was trying to break through the numbing sensation of the Void.

Her appearances were rare and unusual, but she still would visit the thralls more often than Sithis. She commonly spoke on His behalf as the deity's presence was an overwhelming sensation and caused great unease amongst the souls of His loyal followers.

Both the Speaker and Finn took a knee in respect as the Night Mother came closer. Even now, Lachance could feel his bitterness and anger start to build up once more.

"My Lady," Finn said quietly as he held his head low. "You honor us."

"Leave, little thrall," the Mer demanded in a firm yet unthreatening tone.

The Imperial quickly arose and vanished back into the shadowy realm of Sithis' underworld. If the Night Mother gave you an order, you'd damn well better do it and fast. Once they were alone, the elf knelt down and took Lucien's chin in her hand and tilted his head up so that he was looking at her. The elf's smile widened when she could see that his eyes were now screaming with anger and resentment, Sithis' chosen soul was very upset.

"That was quite a show you put on for the Argonian, wasn't it?"

"He made a foolish decision that almost cost him his life," Lucien answered, trying to keep his voice steady. "He allows himself to care too much."

The Night Mother tenderly pulled the Spectral Assassin to his feet, her expression never losing its look of amusement.

"Oh, yes. He embraced the notion of family stronger than any I had ever witnessed before." Her eyes twinkled with malice. "At least since your death, dearest Lucien."

The spirit grumbled quietly as the Dunmer placed a loving hand on his shoulder and began to walk with him through the mountainous realm of the Void.

"Isn't it wonderful that after centuries of being dismissed, someone actually cared so much that they were willing to die for you?" The Night Mother could sense the Speaker's anger rising. "Yes, you finally became a part of the family; how funny that it caused you to become the sorcerer' hostage."

Lucien's teeth clenched together greatly. He had hoped that once in the Void he would be able to escape the horrible sensation of shame, but the Night Mother was not going to give him a moment's peace. She seemed to be reveling in it.

"My Lady," he got out stiffly as he tried to remain respectful to the wife of Sithis. "That was one of the most humiliating positions I had ever been put through. What's worse was that it almost led to the Listener being killed."

"He managed to save both himself and you in the end though," the elf said as she stepped in front of the Speaker and crossed her arms. The Night Mother's smile seemed to widen as Lucien refused to make eye contact with her. "What followed afterwards was nothing less than I would have expected from the Lucien Lachance I'd come to know. The cold and callous bastard who resented any that would have the nerve to call him from the Void to assist them with their petty issues."

The Unholy Matron chuckled slightly as she rested her hand on the side of her face. "What was it that really drove you to scream at the boy, Lucien? Was it frustration that he selflessly risked his own life for you? Was it anger that he allowed the Morag Tong imposter to get away?" She grinned wickedly. "Or was it that you finally realized that you weren't as untouchable as you believed yourself to be?"

Lachance's lips curled up in a snarl and he turned his back to the Mer. Not the smartest or most respectful of actions, but he could not stand seeing the look on her face while he was still prone to embracing his negative emotions.

"It amused me to no end what you said to the Redguard prior," She continued, beaming at the back of the Speaker's head. " 'What's the worst that could happen?' I believe were your exact words. As arrogant in death as you were in life. "

"Why are you tormenting me like this?" the Spectral Assassin hissed as he slowly turned to face the Dunmer. "Can you not let me have a moment's peace?"

The Night Mother chuckled as she reached forward and patted Lucien on the cheek. "Oh, Lucien. You truly don't care how much you hurt that Argonian, do you?" She gave him a gentle slap before resting her hands on her hips.

"I've been nothing more than a weapon for the Dark Brotherhood, my Lady," the assassin growled. "That is what I've always been."

"Yes, but when that boy didn't treat you as such, you could hardly resist the temptation. Here was an opportunity for you to live through the Listener. Oh, you played it off as lessons and guidance, but you were selfishly trying to turn him into you," She smirked. "You weren't prepared however when he gave you even more power once he became the leader. He saw to it that you outranked the lowly assassins in the sanctuary. How glorious was it for you to once again look down upon the brothers and sisters as you did once in life?"

"What are you trying to say, my Lady?" he hissed. "That I was acting purely in my own self interest and not that of your husband's?"

"Oh, your loyalties to the Dark Brotherhood always came first, Lucien," she insisted. "However, there was little else that could rival that massive ego of yours. That's why you always became so irritable whenever the Listener did not take your council to heart. How dare he not follow your commands unquestionably after you made him what he was?"

"Made him what he was?" Lachance remarked bitterly. "He's prone to compassion. I may have cared for the brothers and sisters during my time, but I would never have allowed myself to bend to the whims of an enemy."

"Oh, stop trying to defend your actions, Lachance!" the Night Mother snapped suddenly. "We both know why you were really angry and lashed out at the boy. It's because you finally allowed him to see you weak! He saw that you weren't as strong and indestructible as you had made yourself out to be over the years! He saw you helpless and that made you sick to your very stomach!"

The Speaker grumbled loudly and started to move away from the Dunmer. He hated the feelings that he was embracing and longed once more for the numbing comfort that the Void provided. The Unholy Matron, however, was not going to let him go so easily and kept a steady pace behind him.

"You may have told him that you weren't his brother, but that was one of the most pathetic attempts at lying I have ever witnessed. He loves you, Lachance, and you love him!" The Spectral Assassin turned on his heels to shoot a dangerous glare at the Dark Elf, but she returned with a look just as disturbing.

"You tried to remain unattached and professional, but as time went by you allowed yourself to become like a father to him! You relished in the fact that once again you were part of a Brotherhood family! Something that had been taken from you after the Purification in Cheydinhal! The child wasn't the only one who was weak due to his passion on that mountain!"

"What would you have me do?" he shouted at her as his fists clenched in fury. "I had to tell him what he needed to hear in order for him to understand how dangerous his empathy can be! Othrelos is more than aware that his love for his family makes him weak and he is using that to his advantage to try and destroy the Dark Brotherhood! Yes! I hurt the Argonian, but it was for his own good!"

"So," the woman started darkly, "what are you going to do about it once he has the nerve to summon you back?" Her eyes narrowed as she saw the Speaker's shoulder slump. "He's eventually going to call for you, Lucien; and you will have no choice but to go to him."

"I can't let that happen," Lachance answered simply as he shook his head. "Othrelos used me once to get to him and the Mer will do it again if he gets the opportunity." The Spectral Assassin crossed his arms as he scowled at the ground. "The younger assassins can fight and defend themselves; I have no fear for them. That Soul Trap casting, however, stopped me in my very tracks. The child saw me at the sorcerer's mercy and will be too worried about me to focus on himself in battle." His eyes narrowed. "He'll get himself killed if I fight by his side."

The Night Mother began to circle the Speaker, still giving him a look of disappointment. "So how are you going to prevent the warlock from using you against the Dark Brotherhood, Lucien? The Listener rarely goes anywhere without you. You are practically his shadow."

"If I cannot be summoned then I cannot be used against anyone," Lachance remarked as his brow furrowed. "If I was no longer the spirit of the Dark Brotherhood, the ties connecting me to the Listener would be severed and he would not be able to call me forth no matter how hard he tried."

This bit of news caused the Unholy Matron's eyes to widen in surprise. "Lucien Lachance," she uttered quietly. "Am I hearing you correctly? You wish to have your title as the Dark Brotherhood spirit removed? You want to become nothing more than one of the nameless thralls wandering the vastness of the Void?"

"As you so adamantly pointed out to me, my Lady," the Speaker said, "the boy sees me as a father figure and he was almost killed because of his love for me. If he sees that I can no longer be summoned, maybe it will invoke some bitterness in that heart of his and push him to be the cruel murderer I know he is capable of being."

"Or maybe it will cause him to crumble," the Night Mother hissed. "His compassion for you is as much your fault as it is his. After more than a decade of being there, do you honestly believe that abandoning my Listener is going to make him stronger in the end?"

"I will not allow myself to be put in a position to be used against the Dark Brotherhood again!" the Spectral Assassin announced in aggravation. "It will be difficult at first, but he will see it as a harsh lesson to not allow his heart to get the better of him. His love makes him weak!"

"You're one to talk, Lachance," the Unholy Matron said as she glowered at the assassin. "It was because you cared about my faithful Keeper that you went after the executioner alone. You got yourself caught and the Listener nearly got killed because of you. You and the Listener really are one in the same. Stubborn, arrogant and hopeless fools that let their hearts guide them."

"We are the same," Lucien agreed as he took a few cautious steps towards the Night Mother, "and unless he stops allowing Othrelos to play on his weaknesses, he is going to befall the same fate as me. His allies outside of the Dark Brotherhood are already rallying and on the hunt to destroy him. I don't want that boy to have to endure his own Applewatch!"

"Stop playing this off as some selfless sacrifice, Lucien," the elf muttered. "You're just scared that the Argonian might die because of you. If he does fall, you don't want it to be any fault of your own." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't think you truly comprehend just what you are asking. This means that you would no longer be able to leave. You will never again walk the lands of Tamriel. The Void will be your permanent residence."

"I am well aware of that," the assassin insisted. "I've have served as the Dark Brotherhood's spirit for close to three hundred years. It had been a painful yet rewarding experience, but my time has come to an end."

"My husband is not going to be pleased that you are throwing away his generous title for you so callously. You might regret this decision, Lachance," the Dunmer warned him as her eyes glanced upwards towards the unseen presence that was the Dread Father.

"If he sees fit to punish me for it, I accept that. So long as I know that the Dark Brotherhood can never again be manipulated because of my presence." He looked up towards the sky as well. "You can release your wrath upon me, Dread Father, but I no longer desire to be bound to that scroll or the Listener! I no longer desire to represent the Dark Brotherhood's spirit!"

The whole realm trembled and a low rumble sounded throughout the Void causing nearby thralls to either stumble to the ground or run off to seek shelter. Sithis had heard Lucien Lachance's request and did not hesitate to respond to it.

The Night Mother's eyes cast upward and a small smile crawled up her face as the Dread Father spoke to her silently so as to not upset the Void any more than he already had.

"Really? Is that what you have decided then? You are brilliant, my love." She turned her gaze back down to the Spectral Assassin. "Sithis has heard your call and He has generously decided to accept your resignation."

Lachance gasped in pain and dropped to a knee as he felt as though a part of his essence was being ripped violently from his body. The Night Mother sighed as she looked down at the suffering assassin.

"Oh, I should have stepped back so you don't have to feel this, Lucien, "she smirked. "I should have, but I didn't."

The pain was almost as agonizing as the Soul Trap spell, but fortunately the sensation eventually went away. The Speaker felt much lighter, as though a heavy part of him was no longer weighing him down. Lucien slowly rose to his feet and stared at the Night Mother in confusion.

"The Dread Father just cut the cord that connects you to the plane of Nirn," the woman explained calmly as she gave him a pleased look. "I hope you are satisfied; the Argonian will never again be able to call you to his side. Never again will you have to deal with the shame of enduring his unconditional love. No more claiming souls for the Void, no more Dawnstar Sanctuary," her red eyes twinkled with wickedness, "no more 'Buddy'."

Lachance felt a great sense of relief now that the pain had passed, but also a deep sense of sadness. He did not even have the consideration to tell the Listener or any of the others he was not coming back; but hopefully his sudden and unexpected removal would only make them stronger and more coldhearted in the end.

"So, that's it then," he remarked quietly. "There is no longer a Dark Brotherhood spirit."

"Oh, there's going to be a spirit, Lachance," the Night Mother insisted. "Sithis has seen to it that one who is just as devoted and worthy will take your place on that summoning scroll. We cannot leave the Dark Brotherhood without a spiritual guide, can we?"

"Who has he chosen?" the Speaker asked.

"That's not information you need to know," the Mer laughed as she began to walk away. "You're just another thrall in the Void now, Lachance! These matters are no longer any of your concern!"

The assassin had been rather curious as to which of the many souls in the Void the Dread Father has chosen to replace him as the new Dark Brotherhood spirit. However, with the Night Mother leaving and taking the aura with her, the thrall no longer felt worried about the matter. In fact, he felt nothing at all.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: For those of you who may not have read the first fic, No Man Left Behind, Finn is the Penitus Oculatus agent that Cicero befriended and eventually killed. The two became close throughout the story, brought together first by their shared love for riddles. **


	22. We Are Not Villains

The blizzard had been furiously ravaging the Pale for the last three days and still showed no signs at all of lessening. The winds howled, the snow piled high and the citizens were trapped in their very homes. Fortunately, many had been more than prepared and had everything they needed to outlast the storm; the Dark Brotherhood was no different.

Dro'marash was on his stomach before the fire, nose deep in a tome regarding toxic plants. Babette, Nazir and Cicero were also keeping close to the warm glow of the flames, safe from both the Morag Tong and the harsh winter elements. Almost everyone seemed rather calm and was enjoying the brief moment of tranquility, but the Fool of Hearts paced before the fire only pausing once in a while to mutter something under his breath.

"You are wearing a hole in the floor," the Khajiit said as he looked up from his reading. "Come; look at this passage about a red nirnroot! Dro finds it most fascinating!"

"How can you read when the Listener had not come out from his room or spoken to anyone in the last two days?" the Imperial hissed as he glared down at the assassin. "Did only Cicero see how miserable he was when he returned from the storm?"

"He said two of the Morag Tong had been killed and Lachance was safe in the Void," Nazir stated as he leaned back into his reading chair. "He was probably just exhausted; he had been through a lot that day."

"That day, yes, but is has been three now! How long must the Listener hide away until someone aside from Cicero understands that something is wrong?" The Fool of Hearts took a knee so that he was staring the feline right in his orange eyes. "Since when has he gone days without summoning Lucien, hmmm? Does this not seem odd to any of you?"

"You think KaNack lied and Lucien is gone?" the alchemist asked as his ears flattened. "You think the Morag Tong killed the Dark Brotherhood spirit?"

"I don't know what to think!" the Imperial stated in frustration. "Cicero has known the Listener long enough though to realize that he is keeping something from him!"

"If you are so concerned, go speak to the Argonian," the vampire snapped as she shot the jester an annoyed look. "Confirm your suspicions."

"Cicero has tried! The Listener won't talk to Cicero! It's as though the Listener cannot hear him! His eyes are open but he does not speak!" The fool stood tall and rubbed at his arm as he looked to the side sadly. "The Listener has always spoken to Cicero. The silence is maddening."

"Just leave the man be," the Redguard insisted. "If there was something wrong he would have mentioned it by now."

"You don't understand! Not at all!" the fool barked furiously as his hands clenched into fists. "Cicero is the only one truly cares that the Listener is suffering!" The merry man crossed his arms and scowled at the confused faces looking up at him. "Why is it that the fool is the only one who can see this?"

"If the Listener won't speak to you, he certainly won't speak to Dro'marash," the feline explained calmly. "When he is ready to talk, he will."

"That's not good enough," Cicero uttered as he started to walk towards one of the tunnels. "He needs to talk to someone."

"Don't bother him, Cicero!" Babette called after the Keeper. The unchild grumbled to herself as the small man was already gone before turning to look at Nazir. "You don't think Cicero's right, do you? About KaNack?" she asked. "I mean, he doesn't usually go this long without conjuring Lachance from the Void."

"Don't let the Keeper get you started," the Speaker insisted in a gruff voice. "You know that the man's never been quite right in the head."

The Fool of Hearts walked through the many winding tunnels with a purpose. The Imperial knew that something had upset his dearest friend, but he simply was not willing to talk to anyone about it. There might yet still be someone in the chambers who reach the Argonian when he could not.

Cicero entered the stables of the Dark Brotherhood and found who he was looking for. The Dunmer was braiding the mane of Kaie's speckled gray stallion, trying her damnedest to find ways of isolating herself from the hoard of murderers that were keeping her imprisoned in Dawnstar. Brelyna looked tired, her red eyes dulled due to lack of sleep and her body slumped slightly in depression. She had barely spoken two words to any of the assassins and would only appear every once in a while to get her food and then vanish once more into one of the many rooms in the sanctum.

The fool cleared his throat which caused the Dark Elf to turn to him. To say she was not pleased to see him would be an understatement.

"Oh, it's you," she muttered before turning back to the horse. "Go away, Cicero. We have nothing to say to each other."

"The Listener's lady has never liked, Cicero. Your bitterness will not hurt me the way it did him," the Imperial explained coolly as he cautiously approached her. Depressed or not, she was still a powerful mage and he had to be on his guard lest he tasted the same wrath that the Argonian did. "He needs you, my lady."

"What he needs is own up for his crimes!" she remarked nastily as she turned to face the Keeper. "I can't possibly expect a madman like you to understand. When I took the Imperial Legion's oath, I took it to heart! I can't just ignore the fact that KaNack murdered our emperor!"

"You can't change the past," Cicero replied calmly as he moved past her to start brushing his horse, Frost, whom was in the stall opposite of Brelyna. "If it makes you feel any better, it nearly killed him to do so." The jester turned his head to look at her. "He told Cicero everything. How he spoke with the Emperor and how brave and understanding he was. The Emperor even forgave the Listener; why is it that you cannot?"

"By the Eight, did KaNack put you up to this?" she growled as she angrily continued to braid the stallion's mane. "He's a murderer, Cicero! I fell in love with a mage, not a murderer!"

"Has the lovely Dunmer not killed?" the Keeper retorted. "Does she not have blood on her hands?"

Brelyna spun around furiously and released the horse's mane less she might set it on fire if she allowed her temper to overtake her. "My duty to General Tullius was different compared to the deeds of you bloodthirsty assassins?"

"Cicero is merely saying that the people she killed had lives and families too. However, you feel no guilt for killing them in the name of the Empire."

"That was different!" the elf shouted. "They were Stormcloaks! They killed many without remorse! They were cruel and didn't care at all if an elf was part of the war or not! Friends of mine were attacked on the street simply because they had pointy ears!"

Cicero smiled sadly and nodded his head as he looked over at her from his stall. "Yes, it's easy to kill when you believe it is your right to do so," the jester agreed. "No remorse ever crossed your mind each time you struck down one of those Nords."

"How dare you compare my service to the Imperial Legion to the Dark Brotherhood!" The Mer's hands let up in flames causing the Imperial to tense up. "I am not like you assassins! I didn't kill innocent people!"

"What makes them so innocent? Hmm?!" Cicero remarked bitterly as he moved behind Frost to start brushing him from the flank and also to make himself less of a target for the elf's casting. "Someone asked Mother for these people to be killed! We do not end lives without cause! Yes, perhaps once in a while we did slay someone who did no harm to anyone, but often one does not perform the Black Sacrament unless someone had wronged them!"

The jester came out from behind his stallion and glared out at the mage. "Murderers! Abusers! Traitors! Thieves! These are the people the Dark Brotherhood are sent after! Are you telling Cicero that these are innocent lives? That these are people who deserve to live long enough so that others can be hurt by their cruelty?"

Brelyna narrowed her eyes, but the flames began to simmer from her hands. "The Morag Tong executioners are the ones who have been killing the good people! The Dark Brotherhood kills only those whom have had a contract bound in blood to their name! We are not mindless assassins! We are justice! When the law does nothing, the followers of Sithis step forth!"

"You are still killing outside of the law," she growled. "The people who ask you to kill are no better than yourselves."

"Yes," Cicero hissed venomously as he approached her. "The mother whose son is killed for his gold is a cruel witch for wanting justice. The soldier who accepted bribery from the enemy and sacrificed his company has all the right in the world to not suffer for his treachery. The small temple being harassed by bandits should be ashamed of themselves for asking the Brotherhood to do what they must to protect themselves because the guards claim it's not worth their time."

The Keeper paused before Brelyna and crossed his arms. "Tell me, does this sound like the work of cruel murderers? These people have wronged another and Sithis sees to it that they suffer for their crimes eternally in the Void." The Imperial scoffed. "We are not villains, my lady, we KILL the villains."

The Mer grumbled as she moved away from the fool and sat down on a stool as she kept her head lowered. Cicero sighed and slowly approached her as he saw her bitterness diminish.

"The Listener adores you, my lady," he told her gently. "He had to work so hard over the years to make sure that he always had time for you. So much sacrifice and running around with only hours of sleep, just so that he could be in your company a little bit longer." He leaned against the stall and clasped his hands together as he thought about his poor Listener. "His love for you and the mages was very real. Whenever he spoke to Cicero about you, it was always in the highest of praise. The Listener was so lucky to have two families whom he loved so much, different as they were from one another."

"The lies though," Brelyna insisted. "I cannot get over the lies."

"He lied because he had to! Because he knew how you would react! The lady nearly ended the Listener in her anger! Yes, he is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood and he had killed many people, but he still feels pain and loss like everyone else!"

Cicero took a knee in front of Brelyna and took her hands in his. "You did not see his pain! You did not see how distraught he was when he found out what had happened to the gentle Nord mage! He cried! He screamed! He destroyed everything in his path! What you witnessed in Winterhold was a mere fraction of how much this loss hurt him!"

The Dunmer bit her lip as she turned her head to look away from the Fool of Hearts. "He has suffered so much! So very much in such a short time! He had almost lost you, which is why he brought you here! He wanted you to be safe! He wanted you to not suffer the same fate as the kindly Nord! He brought you to this sanctuary because he loves you!"

The Keeper groaned as he let go of her hands and sat down on his haunches. "The Morag Tong tried to kill Cicero as well. They are willing to kill any if it will hurt the Listener which is why he would not allow you to leave. He is not keeping you prisoner, he is keeping you alive!"

The Imperial's head lowered sadly. "The Listener has isolated himself from everyone since this wretched storm began. He will not speak to anyone, not even faithful Cicero. Cicero knows his heart is in pieces but cannot get him to share." The merry man pointed at the female mage. "You, my lady, he might yet speak to you. Perhaps your love can mend whatever it is that ails him."

The Dark Elf tensed when he felt the Keeper's hand on her arm. "You still love the Listener, do you not?"

"The Eight help me, I just cannot bring myself to hate him," she admitted miserably. "I want to. I want to go screaming to Tullius about his treachery, but I just can't. My head tells me he's a monster while my heart tells me he's the other half of my soul."

"Please," the fool insisted as he took a few wary steps back. "He needs you."

Brelyna let out a shaky breath before standing up and starting out of the stables. Before the Mer left, she turned to look at Cicero. "I see now why my husband considers you one of his closest friends. You love him almost as much as I do, don't you?"

"Humble Cicero is the Keeper," the Imperial answered simply. "He is but a devoted servant to the Listener."

"No, you're more than that. You still make my skin crawl, Cicero, but I am grateful to know that someone as loyal as you was there to look out for KaNack all these years."

Having said her peace, the Dunmer left the stables and began to wander through the many different chambers of the sanctuary. It had surprised Brelyna just how easily it was to get lost in the maze of tunnels and passage ways and usually could only find her room after running into one of the assassins and asking them show her the way.

The woman took her time, glancing into the different entrance ways she passed by until finally she came upon the one she was looking for. The room was huge, much bigger than the one she was staying in. It seemed appropriate that the leader of the Dark Brotherhood would get the very best that the sanctuary had to offer.

As she entered, the first thing she noticed was that curled up at the foot of the Argonian's bed was the spectral wolf, Fang. The conjuration picked his head up with a growl as it sensed a presence entering his caster's room. The wolf then recognized Brelyna and his tail began to wag as she continued to approach the bed. As soon as she got close enough, she was able to see the form of her husband buried underneath a heavy furred blanket.

"KaNack?" she asked gently as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Dear, it's Brelyna."

"Brelyna?" a voice choked out from under the covers. "You're speaking to me again?"

"Your damn fool is very persuasive," she answered as she reached forward to stroke what she assumed was his back. "I'm still hurt that you lied to me all these years, but I can understand why you did so. You were right; I wouldn't have been able to understand this side of you."

The reptile let out a groan as he slowly sat up and pulled the blanket away from his head. The Listener's eyes were almost as red as hers from lack of rest and irritation. Sighing, Brelyna pulled her husband to her and began to lovingly stroke his feathers.

"I'm sorry, love," he muttered quietly. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"KaNack," she said as held him closer. "If the Emperor of Tamriel could forgive you for his assassination, maybe over time I can learn to accept this life of yours; dark as it is."

"You know about that?"

"Cicero told me. He also said that you've been alienating yourself since the blizzard started."

"Cicero has been talking a lot lately," he remarked with a shake of his head.

"I know why you might have been hesitant to try and approach me, but what happened that made you not even want to be with these people you claim are your family?"

KaNack slowly pulled away from Brelyna and started across to the other side of the room. Fang hopped off the bed and trotted after him loyally, wagging his tail and whimpering for attention. The Argonian patted the conjuration on its head as he retrieved something from his desk and then returned to the Dunmer. Disheartened, he handed the Mer an old rolled scroll.

"What's this?" she asked as began to unravel it. The Dark Elf was more than a little puzzled by the parchment, it glowed as though it was under a protective spell, but the entire document was blank.

"That…" the Listener started in a shaky voice as he sat down next to her, "was Lucien…Buddy's summoning scroll." The reptile continued to lovingly stroke at Fang's head as his spouse stared at the scroll in confusion.

"But...KaNack, this is completely free of verse. You can't summon anything with this."

"Did Cicero tell you what happened?" he asked desolately.

The Mer shook her head and reached forward to grab one of his hands when she saw the hurt look in his eyes.

"The people responsible for killing Onmund, the Morag Tong," he began quietly, "they ambushed Lucien and had ensnared him with some rogue form of Soul Trap. You've seen us together enough to know that he was more than just a mere conjuration to me."

"Yes, he continued to accompany you even after Cicero stopped being your follower. I know how close you are to your spirits, especially Buddy…" she grimaced as she forced herself to adapt to the new name, "I mean Lucien."

"He was always so selfless," the Dark Brotherhood leader muttered. "He knew that I could have killed the Morag Tong leader, but only if I was willing to destroy his soul in the process." His eyes widened in shock. "I couldn't do it, Brelyna. I wasn't going to sacrifice the spirit of the Dark Brotherhood. I never would have made it this far without him. He's saved my life on at least four different occasions."

"I first met him during the war, KaNack. Believe me, everyone in the Winterhold Five were aware of how protective the spirit was of you."

"Somehow," the Listener started, "just barely, I managed to get both of us through the encounter alive, but the Morag Tong leader managed to get away." The reptile's teeth clenched as he remembered the harsh words of Lachance. "I had never seen Lucien as disappointed or furious with me as at that very moment." He lowered his head. "He may have felt that his soul wasn't important, but to me he was just as much a part of my life as you or Cicero."

Reaching over the assassin took the blank scroll from Brelyna and looked at the parchment sadly. "I wanted to give both of us some time to calm down. I thought maybe after he got over the encounter, we could make amends. You know, have things go back to the way they were before."

KaNack shook his head as he continued to gaze upon the empty scroll. "Over time, my bond with the Spectral Assassin had grown to be so powerful that I no longer required this scroll to call him forth," the mage explained sadly as he lowered his head. "When my will alone didn't bring him forth from the Void, I pulled out his scroll hoping that it would be enough to conjure my friend forth." He rolled up the scroll and held his face in his hands. "He's gone, Brelyna. Lucien Lachance is not coming back."

"KaNack," the she-elf started as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe this is just temporary."

"The scroll has always had his soul imprinted upon it," he insisted, his claws digging into his knees as his frustration began to increase. "The fact that this is now blank means that Lachance has abandoned me. He's abandoned the Dark Brotherhood!" Small shards of ice began to form around the fresh wounds from his claws. "Was it is so wrong to want to preserve his spirit? How have I failed him in such a way that he would just leave without a word? He didn't even say goodbye!"

"KaNack!" Brelyna grabbed him by his head and pulled him close as she began to gentle rock him, trying to calm her husband. "I'm sure whatever his reasons were he only had your best interest in mind."

"I just don't know how much more I can take, Brelyna. Even the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood has given up on me. Othrelos knows where the sanctuary is and either he's going to send the guilds our way or kill us the moment we leave the safety of the Black Door. We're running out of time and it seems no matter how hard I try, I only end up making things worse."

"I don't understand everything that is happening around us right now," Brelyna started gently as she resumed stroking KaNack's feathers knowing that it helped sooth his nerves, "but I do know that there are dangerous people out there and the only way we're going to be able to survive is if we work together."

"We?" he choked out.

"Yes, KaNack. Don't you remember what you told us when we left for Solitude to join the Imperial Legion?" she asked. "On our own, we were mere casters. Together nothing could touch us." She nuzzled into his soft crimson feathers. "We need to once again band together, my love. We must all stand together to overcome this evil that is plaguing Skyrim. We fight alone, we die alone. If we work together, if we join and unite as a family, nothing will be able to destroy us."

The Argonian let out a shaky breath as he returned the loving embrace and pulled his wife closer. "You're right," he admitted quietly. "I've been too busy trying to keep everyone safe that I've completely forgotten why we've survived this long. It's by working together; it's been through rigorous training and teamwork. It's time that we faced the Morag Tong in full force." His eyes narrowed as he thought about Othrelos and his remaining executioners. "We have lost friends, but so have they. It's time they realize just why we're called the Dark Brotherhood. We're going to band together and give them a fight that will wipe them out once and for all!"

"I'm with you my love," she said quietly. "I'm with you all the way."

"With you by my side, Brelyna," he started, "I know we will be able to strike that sorcerer down. We just need to find a way to get the jump on those damn executioners." As the Listener pondered, a cruel smile crept up his face. "I think I know just how we're going to do it too."


	23. The Mark

The Dark Brotherhood archer's red eyes peered all around him as he traveled the winding roads on the outskirts of Dawnstar. The snow was deep, but at least the blizzard had lifted. Vytalas' pinto mare was still having difficulty maneuvering through the heavy remains of the storm. Puffs of steam snorted from the horse's nostrils as she was less than pleased to be forced to work in such harsh conditions.

"I know I should have waited for the snow to be shallower, but time is of the essence, Dirtsa," the Dunmer whispered into the ornery steed's ear. The elf continued to ride along the quiet and seemingly still path of the Pale. He knew exactly what he was doing; it would only be a matter of time before he found what he was looking for.

"All alone, sweetie?"

Vytalas pulled on the reins of Dirtsa and a grimace formed on his face. The Mer knew that if he went off by himself, one of the Morag Tong would eventually come upon him. He was hoping it would have been one of the others, though, not her. The Dunmer pulled on the reigns once more to make the horse turn in place and found Dinya behind him with her daedric bow pointed directly at his head.

"Yes, I am," he answered simply. "You?"

"I'm not alone, you're here, are you not?" she answered as she slowly lowered her weapon, grinning wickedly at him. "No other Brotherhood members with you, you're not throwing insults my way, and you're obviously not running. What's your game?"

"No game," the archer stated as he stroked the neck of his mare. "Our leader is starting to fall to pieces and is taking much of his frustration out on me and the other assassins. I cannot follow under a man who allows death to upset him to the point where he starts making stupid mistakes." The Mer let out a growl as he shook his head. "It's only a matter of time before he gives an order that is going to get another one of us killed, and I certainly don't want to die under the command of a failing leader."

"Oh, sweetie," the she-elf purred as she sauntered over to him. "Hearing you speak of the Listener in such a way, it's very becoming of you."

"I know a sinking ship when I see one, Dinya," Vytalas remarked adamantly. "The Brotherhood is falling because of a weak leader; I'd much rather serve under one who does not allow emotion to blind him." A smirk crossed across his dark lips. "Your father was callous enough to be willing to sacrifice you to accomplish his tasks; he's exactly the kind of cold-hearted murderer I want to work for. Not a lizard who goes sobbing every time something does not go his way."

The Dark Brotherhood member tensed up as the female ran a hand along his thigh when she got close enough. "Go on," she insisted as her red eyes gazed him up and down hungrily.

"I may have a way for you to finally eliminate the Dark Brotherhood, but I will need to speak to Othrelos directly." He offered his hand down to the Morag Tong. "I assume the offer to join still stands?"

"Well, we'll see," Dinya answered as she accepted the hand and was pulled up onto the saddle behind the Dark Elf. She wrapped her arms around his torso tightly and rested her chin on his shoulder, relishing in the shudder than ran through the man's body. "Sweetie, if you desire to work with us, you're going to have to start acting happy to see me."

"Old habits die hard," the Mer insisted bitterly. "Now, point me in the right direction."

The female elf proceeded to give Vytalas instructions on the different paths to travel in order to find the location of her guild. It seemed every once in a while that Dinya was leading him in circles; the man was not sure if she was doing to so to throw off any whom might be following them or if just gave her an excuse to squeeze him for a longer period of time. After what seemed like almost an hour of riding, the archer eventually came upon the sunken Nordic tomb that was Windward Ruins.

"A ruin? The Morag Tong is residing in an old catacomb?" the archer asked in disbelief.

"Only temporarily. It's not as comfy as the inn we stayed at during the worst of the storm, but we're making do," she insisted with a shrug. "Perhaps once the Dark Brotherhood is killed we can move into the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Settle down; maybe have a couple of kids."

"Just how mentally stable are you, Dinya? I'd be afraid you'd eat the children."

The she-elf slid herself off of the mare and smirked up at Vytalas as she placed her hands on her hips. "Such a flatterer. Come on, sweetie. The others will be quite eager to meet you."

Dinya led the Dark Brotherhood archer around the ruin and the archer noticed that there were a few runes scattered about a few of the passages that led to the inner portion of the ruin. "Watch your step; you don't want to get yourself blown up by one of Father's traps."

The female entered one of the unguarded passages and began to lead the lone Brotherhood member inside. The Dunmeri did not get far before running into one of the remaining Morag Tong executioners. The Redguard, Adara, was resting in front of a small fire she had made for herself and was sharpening her blade with a whetstone.

"You're early, Dinya," the woman muttered not bothering to look away from her work yet. "We weren't expected you for…" The Redguard stopped in mid sentence when she turned around and finally noticed the larger Dark Elf standing before her. The fighter was quickly on her feet and positioned herself into a defensive stance.

"Don't worry, Adara. He came here willingly," the elf insisted as she hugged the man's arms and leaned against him, grinning madly. "See, I told you the Dunmer wouldn't be able to keep away from me."

"I bet," the Redguard snorted as her eyes glanced from side to side. "So where are the rest of them hiding at, assassin?"

"If you are talking about the Dark Brotherhood, they aren't here with me," Vytalas insisted as he pulled away from Dinya to cross his arms. "As far as I know, they are still back in the sanctuary trying to figure out a way to keep alive." His red eyes narrowed at the Redguard still blocking his path. "I had been told that if I came to the Morag Tong I would have been welcomed with open arms."

"Dinya," growled Adara, "I don't trust him. This elf seems much too eager to be abandoning his Brotherhood for the Morag Tong. I know your father said he wanted him alive, but I think it might be in everyone's best interest if we…" She pulled her sword in a slicing gesture in front of her throat.

"Well, thankfully it doesn't matter what you think since I'm your superior," Dinya snorted as she rested her hip against the taller Dark Elf's side. "What, are you afraid of him? I've got him completely under control," she insisted before grabbing Vytalas' head and pulling it down to bite hard on his remaining ear.

The archer released a cry of pain before shoving the female away and drawing his ebony blade as he took a few staggering steps backwards. His crimson eyes burned with fury as the female simply smiled and licked at her teeth.

"See, Adara? If he meant treachery, he'd be attacking us by now for my little stunt."

"Don't try my patience with you, Dinya!" the archer shouted at her fiercely as he kept his weapon pointed at her. "I came here to speak with Othrelos! If you're simply going to waste my time…!"

"Calm down," the she-elf growled as she pushed her way past her fellow Morag Tong member to continue through the ruin's passage. "It was just a love bite. Stop being a baby and let's go."

Vytalas rubbed at his throbbing ear as he cautiously trailed after the two executioners. "I guess I should be grateful that you didn't try to prove your point by cutting something else off of me," Vytalas hissed at her.

This comment made Dinya burst into a fit of giggles as she turned her head to beam at him. "Oh, perish the thought, my dear! That's the ONE thing I'd let you keep," she tittered and nudged into the Redguard playfully which only made the woman grumble.

The three did not get far before the Brotherhood archer found himself in a part of the ruin which was much warmer. A large fire was burning in the middle of the path and the two remaining members of the Morag Tong were settled in front of it, seeming to be lost in the dancing flames. Beem-Ja looked miserable and his head was held low as the danced across his glistening reptilian eyes. Othrelos seemed to be at peace as his faced remained free of any expression. The warlock did not appear to be at all concerned by the fact that his guild was dwindling in numbers. What had been an impressive seven had now become a mere four.

"Father!" Dinya called out as she proudly approached the old Dunmer. "Look who finally decided to pay us a visit!"

Othrelos and the Argonian both picked their heads up and were surprised by the presence of the Dark Brotherhood's archer.

"You! You're one of the bastards who killed, Ra'jiir!" the reptile snarled as he got to his feet and drew his sword. "I had been with that man since he was a kit! I'll slice your throat open!"

"Calm yourself, Beem-Ja!" the Morag Tong leader barked as he rose to his feet and shot his executioner a dark look. "It's been more than a week, stop blubbering over the loss of the cat."

Beem-Ja said something in language that the younger elf was unfamiliar with, but he was fairly certain that it was not anything pleasant.

Othrelos took his time as he made his way towards Vytalas, his arms held out and a warm smile lighting his gray face. "My fellow Dunmer, I had hoped that you would come to us before it was too late." The Mer paused before the archer and bowed his head slightly in greeting. "I am assuming you are here to finally accept my offer to join us?"

"That is what I am here to discuss with you. First though, I need to ask a favor of you," the assassin started coolly as he shot Dinya a look. "Think you can get your daughter to keep her hands to herself for about three minutes?"

The wizard chuckled in amusement as he gazed lovingly at the small female who now was pouting. "I'll see what I can do." The Mer turned his eyes back to the archer. "I must know though, boy. Why have you decided now to leave the Brotherhood?"

The Dunmer let out a deep sigh as his eyes looked sadly to the ground. "The only reason for me to stay there is gone," he answered simply. "My lover, Kaie, passed away the other night."

"So that means you're single, that's perfect!" the female elf exclaimed as she moved towards her father, the smirk seemed to be frozen on her face. "It's as though everything was meant to be."

"Dinya," the warlock hissed at her in a warning tone. The older Mer shook his head as he did his best to give Vytalas a look of sympathy. "I see. As you know all too well, death is no stranger to any of us. I would hope that you aren't as weak as that Argonian to allow something like this to affect your abilities."

"Please," the assassin rudely snorted. "No one is as weak as him. All this did was finally give me the motivation I needed to be able to embrace my ancestry and join the original guild of assassins. KaNack has had a good run, but clearly his ship had not only sailed but has smashed head-on into an iceberg."

"I could not have worded it better myself," Othrelos said as he placed a hand on the Brotherhood member's shoulder and guided him over to the fire. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable. We have much I'd like to discuss.

The Dunmer took a seat by the fire and the rest of the Morag Tong did likewise, although both the Redguard and Argonian were still shooting archer distrustful looks. Dinya couldn't care less as she eagerly sat down beside Vytalas and rested her shoulder against him.

"My hands aren't touching you," she snickered when she heard the growl rumbling in the man's throat. The assassin's attention was pulled away from the infuriating Morag Tong when a tankard of ale was passed towards him by the ancient wizard.

"Now that you have agreed to join us, Vytalas, it's time to get down to that ugly business regarding the Dark Brotherhood's elimination." The Mer's red eyes shimmered as he ran his fingers harmlessly through the blaze of the fire. "We've already gotten most of the guild hating their very existence, but those factions are taking too long to get the job done. If you want someone killed, you often have to do it yourself."

"He knows the password," muttered Beem-Ja. "We could get inside that sanctuary and kill every last one of them in their sleep."

"You're an idiot," Vy hissed at the reptile before taking a sip from his ale.

"What?!" the Argonian snapped. "Who in Oblivion are you to be calling me an idiot, you pathetic excuse for a Dunmer?!"

The archer cleared his throat and pointed to the right side of his head. "I'm sorry; you're going to have to speak up. I'm a little hard of hearing in this ear."

Dinya snorted with laughter as she nudged into Vytalas playfully. "Oh, sweetie! Joking about it already? You are much stronger than we gave you credit for!"

The archer's teeth clenched together, but he decided to ignore the unwanted attention of the desperate she-elf beside him. He took another sip of the ale and looked over at Othrelos.

"What I mean to say, sir, is that going to the sanctuary would be suicide." A smirk crossed his lips. "I know you have already met the Listener's pet dragon Odahviing? Unless you'd all like to end up like your slobbering Orc, I'd keep as far away from the sanctuary as possible."

"You make an excellent point, young man," the warlock agreed as he nodded. "Yes, I had not counted on the Dragonborn actually being able to call forth a dragon. That Argonian just always seems to be able to weasel his way out of death."

As Othrelos turned to the side to pour himself his own tankard of ale, the archer jumped in shock when he felt something pinch him. He turned to glare at Dinya and bared his teeth at her in a snarl.

"Don't do that again."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she insisted innocently as she beamed over at her father who was once more giving the two his full attention. The Dark Elf let out a frustrated sigh as he resumed speaking to the warlock.

"Fortunately for you, Othrelos," the assassin stated, "you now have someone who is on the inside of that sanctuary and can tell you exactly what is being planned."

"The Dark Brotherhood is making a move?" Adara asked as she leaned towards the Mer in curiosity. "What could they possibly pull that they haven't already?"

"Reinforcements," the archer answered. "The Listener is planning to go out and round up the remaining members of the surrounding sanctuaries to hunt you down and destroy you." He chuckled wickedly as he turned to smile at Dinya. "Since there are four of you and at least forty assassins in the remaining guilds, I'd say you're on the quick path to a sure death."

Dinya smirked as she rested her head in her hands, seeming to lose herself in the larger Mer's red eyes. "So the silly lizard is trying to round up the whole family, is he? How delicious."

"General Tullius has been on the lookout for messenger hawks, so KaNack is going to be forced to have to leave the Dawnstar sanctuary and actively go to each and every Dark Brotherhood sanctum in order to gather the remaining brothers and sisters." He leaned forward and Dinya's eyes widened as his face was mere inches away from hers. "He'll be traveling with the strongest remaining members of the his sanctuary, so your small numbers will not be a disadvantage." He pressed his lips to the she-elf's ear making her quiver. "Especially not when I give you all the exact locations in which we will be stopping to rest."

"Strongest members?" Beem-Ja asked as he rubbed his claws before the fire. "Who would that be exactly?"

"The Listener, of course, his wife, the Khajiit alchemist and myself," Vytalas answered as he pulled away from the she-elf.

"Awww, what about the blue doggy?" Dinya sulked as she crossed her arms, slightly annoyed that Vytalas has clearly teased her by getting as close to her as he did. "Father told me that he got away in Dawnstar."

"The Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood has abandoned the Listener," the elf explained as he leered at her. "I guess your father's casting of Soul Trap scared him so badly that he refuses to return from the Void."

This bit of news caused the warlock to burst out into laughter. "So the Argonian's ghoul has left his services? By the Eight, that ghost went with him nearly everywhere he went! The reptile must be beside himself!"

"He is a master conjurer, Othrelos," Vytalas reminded the older Mer. "He has other spirits and thralls that he can summon. All of them are very powerful. " A smirk once again crossed his lips. "But yes, he is a mess. Lucien Lachance was his favorite. "

"Pity, I had hoped the Morag Tong would have been able to put that transparent puppy down," Dinya sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "Still, if he doesn't return, that's just as good."

"Othrelos," the assassin started to once again grab the Morag Tong leader's attention. "It won't do any good to simply follow us from Dawnstar. The dragon is still circling and won't leave until the Listener is already well on his way with the rest of us. Once I find out where our first camp will be, I will leave a message for you by the iron mines in the city. Once Odahviing moves on, it will be safe for you to enter Dawnstar and retrieve directions to where you and the Morag Tong can ambush the Dark Brotherhood."

"I have to say, Vytalas, you've more than exceeded my expectations. You really put a lot of thought into your treachery to your beloved family, haven't you?"

"I'm just sick of working under a dying guild," grumbled the Dunmer as he shot a look over at the female resting against him. "Maybe I'll even one day be able to tolerate your daughter if she ever learns some self control."

"Yeah, good luck with that," snorted Beem-Ja before downing a swig of ale. "You're not the only one Dinya's sunk her claws into you know, Mer."

"Beem-Ja," hissed Othrelos as he shot the Argonian a dangerous look. "I hope you are not insinuating what I think you are about my daughter."

"Oh, perish the thought, Othrelos," the scaled executioner grumbled into his tankard.

The she-elf snickered, not at all ashamed of the accusation and wrapped an arm around Vytalas' shoulder and put her lips to his ear. "Give it some time, sweetie. Your mousey Breton is dead. You've got me to look forward to now."

"Right," muttered the assassin as he shrugged her off and began to slowly rise to his feet. "Now, I'd better get back to the sanctuary before they start to become too concerned over my absence. We'll be going into detail over our travel plans tonight, and they expect me to be there for it." His red eyes rolled to the ceiling. "I can't risk the overprotective Listener having another panic attack because I stayed out too late."

"Just a moment, Vytalas," Othrelos said as he stood up. "There's still the matter of you joining the Morag Tong."

"Don't worry; I've already shared with you some of the most intimate details regarding the Dark Brotherhood's next move. My loyalty is with the Morag Tong now."

"Then prove it," the Redguard remarked cruelly as she and the Argonian stood up as well.

"What do you mean, 'prove it'?" hissed the archer as he glowered at her.

"Oh, sweetie," Dinya purred as she rubbed against him, making the Mer turn to look at her. "Take a gander." The she-elf pulled the collar of her shroud down revealing a strange mark on her shoulder that the Dark Elf had never seen before.

"What in Sithis is that?" Vytalas muttered as he peered at it, not able to make out exactly what it was supposed to be an image of. "I'm sorry, I don't recognize it."

"That it the seal of the Morag Tong," the ancient wizard explained as he removed a ring from his finger and held it out for the assassin to see. The ring bore the same mark that was on the wizard's daughter. "When we wrote writs of execution, this would be the seal that we would use before carrying out the mission."

"We all bear the mark," the Argonian explained as he raised his head to reveal the Morag Tong seal underneath his chin. "None of us could become executioners unless we were willing to burn to prove ourselves worthy to Othrelos."

"Now it's time for you to do the same." The Morag Tong leader held the ring into the fire and it began to glow a bright orange as it heated up in the flames. The Dark Brotherhood assassin tensed up and took a few hesitant steps backwards. Dinya snickered and wrapped her arms around his waist to keep him from retreating.

"Oh, don't be scared," she insisted as she rested her head on his chest. "I'll be here to help you through the pain."

"You are an archer, Vytalas, so I think that this emblem should probably be somewhere on your chest. After all, I can't risk you having sore arms if I want you to wield that bow of yours to the best of your ability."

The she-elf was more than willing to lift up the front portion of the Dark Elf's shroud which caused him to scramble back. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "I've never bore a mark in my life! I don't believe in them! Marks lead to recognition which is a quick path to a chopping block! There must be some other way!"

"You already have one ear, Vytalas," Othrelos insisted calmly as he continued to heat his ring. "I'd say that's much more identifiable than a small mark on your body."

"You are devoted to becoming one of us, aren't you, Mer?" Adara asked in a dark tone as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Unless, Othrelos, he's tricking us and that's why he's not willing to endure the burn of the Morag Tong."

"He's still loyal to the Dark Brotherhood!" barked Beem-Ja. "He's planning on having us killed just like Mul and Ra'jiir!"

"Everyone, get a hold of yourselves," the Morag Tong leader sighed as he gave the trembling archer a sympathetic look. "I know why you are frightened, Vytalas. The last time we caused you pain, it brought forth a shame that I would not wish upon my worst enemies. We have wronged you and for that I apologize."

The warlock pulled the ring from the fire and began to approach the assassin. Being much older and a mage, the hot metal was not affecting him; however a younger and ungifted Mer such as Vytalas would not be as fortunate. "I assure you, as painful as this brand might be, this is a mark of honor. No loss of an ear could possibly diminish the pride you will feel as a blood member of the Morag Tong. This is your redemption, my friend. Endure a moment of pain for a lifetime of admiration."

The archer swallowed and reached over to grab the first thing he could, which happened to be Dinya's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"Oh, Father," she sighed as she lovingly rubbed at the elf's back. "We're going to have more Dunmeri gracing our guild. It will truly be like the old days in Morrowind."

The she-elf once again grabbed a handful of the assassin's shroud and slowly pulled it up to reveal his blank torso that twitched in anticipation and distress. Dinya grunted as the grip on her hand suddenly became painful.

"Oh, sweetie. Just think about our glorious future together," she stated as she smiled at him sweetly. "We'll have centuries to become even closer. You'll see how wonderful it will be to be with a fellow Mer who will not lose her beauty through something as insignificant as old age."

Othrelos shot the archer a look as he held the glowing ring before the frightened wide eyes of the Dark Elf. "Now, since you are a fellow Dunmer, I will have to keep this pressed to you slightly longer to make sure that the mark burns into your skin. I'm sorry, but in this case, your fire resistance will end up hurting you more in the end."

Without warning, the wizard pressed the ring into Vytalas' abdomen and the entire ruin rattled from the piercing scream of agony that followed. Dinya kept a tight grip on the archer as her father pressed the emblem harder into the assassin's skin that was fighting to try and resist the overwhelming burning sensation. After what felt like an eternity of pain, the Morag Tong leader finally pulled his ring away and gazed upon his handiwork.

Vytalas' abdomen continued to spasm from the pain of the mark that had been cruelly branded into it. It was small and smoldering, but the seal of the executioners was now a permanent part of the Dark Brotherhood assassin's body.

The Dunmer gasped and his body shuddered as he tried to recover from the traumatizing experience. The she-elf gently rubbed his back.

"There, there, sweetie. It wasn't so bad. I went through the same thing and believe me, it stops hurting after about an hour," she insisted before leaning forward to nuzzle his neck. "You got through it though, you're one of us now."

Othrelos slid the ring back on his finger and shot the Redguard and Argonian a look. "If he was still a part of the Brotherhood, he would have fought to keep himself from being marked. Are you satisfied that his loyalties are to us now?"

Beem-Ja scoffed as he crossed his arms. "I still don't like the fact that we have a Brotherhood assassin amongst us. However, if he was willing to adorn the mark, then he's a true Morag Tong."

The archer gagged for a moment as he collapsed to his knees and continued to shudder. The pain would not seem to go away, the ring was no longer burning into him, but the sensation seemed to linger continuously. Dinya shook her head and knelt down next to Vytalas to smirk at him.

"See, this is what happens when you don't allow yourself to get marks. The first time is always the most painful. Sweetie, this was certainly not the mark to make your first." She wrapped her arms around him which only caused him to shudder more. "Just think about it, Vytalas. The Morag Tong originated in Morrowind. Dunmeri have always been the true leaders of assassins and executioners, and years from now when my father sees fit to retire, it will be the two of us leading the guild. We're going to be a part of history, sweetie. Isn't it grand?"

"Why won't the pain stop?" he groaned weakly as he clutched a hand to his stomach. "Merciful Eight, please make it stop."

"Ugh, we're going to have to work on your listening skills, sweetie," Dinya grumbled as she stood up straight. "I'm going to let this go, but only because I understand just how much that brand hurts you."

"You best be on your way, boy," Othrelos insisted as he took a seat once more in front of the crackling fire. "As you said, you don't want the Listener throwing a fit worrying over where you are." He chuckled darkly. "We'll be patiently waiting a safe distance away for you to begin your journey." The Dunmer nodded his head to the archer as Vytalas slowly staggered to his feet. "I have a good feeling about you, boy. I think we're going to have a very long and professional future with one another." The warlock smiled over at his daughter. "And who knows, I might just be calling you son one of these days."

"A pleasure," the Mer choked out, "to be working with you, sir."

"Please, you're one of us now. Call me, Othrelos."

A chill ran up the Dark Elf's spine as Dinya blew into his existing ear. "See you real soon, sweetie."

The archer stumbled his way out of the ruins, still in horrible pain from the branding, but he knew he had to leave. If he kept away from the sanctuary for too long, KaNack would start to become worried. He had been worrying enough for everyone in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. The Dark Brotherhood assassin quickly mounted Dirtsa and swiftly gave her a kick to her sides.

The brown and white mare raced forward through the woods and snow as the Dark Elf on her back winced and grunted in agony as each gallop sent a surge of pain through his abdomen. He did not allow her to slow down though; he continued to push her forward. The sooner he got to the sanctuary, the sooner he could find out where KaNack was planning to journey and then hopefully sleep the pain off.

Dirtsa snorted loudly as she ran along the familiar shoreline of the Pale and was guided towards the large hidden doors that housed the Dawnstar Sanctuary's stables. After almost an hour of continuous riding, the Dunmer was relieved to finally be able to dismount and lead his horse into the secret chamber and felt a sense of security as the chill of the air was replaced with the stuffiness of the warm stables.

He could not hold back the satisfied smirk on his face as he led the steed to her stall. Everything was going according to plan, none of them were even aware that he was about to betray each and every one of them.

"So," a feminine voice asked behind, "did they buy it?"

Vytalas let out a sinister chuckle as he turned around and pulled Kaie close pressing his lips to hers. He sighed contently as he looked into her kind eyes and ran his fingers through her silky hair.

"Hook, line, and sinker."


	24. Band of Brothers

KaNack held out his palm and cast a fire spell at the fire pit to keep it burning. The small area of Shrouded Grove was a perfect place to rest as well as prepare for the grueling events ahead of him. He knew that he had been doing everything wrong, that he should have been taking advantage of the fact that he had family and friends that were willing to band together to rid them all of this scourge that was the Morag Tong.

"We should have done this sooner," the Argonian said softly to the other three resting around the fire. Maybe if we had all met Othrelos back in Falkreath, we might have ended him and more of us would still be alive. Perhaps Onmund and Shaleez would not have fallen to those murderers."

"You can't change the past," Vytalas insisted as he allowed a stick he was holding to catch on fire and began to playfully draw circles in the air with the lit piece of wood. "What matters is that we're finally going to put all this chaos to a stop. These executioners have tried to kill the Dark Brotherhood and now they will pay for it. They messed with the wrong family."

Dro'marash had piece of wood in his hands as well, but was using it to sharpen his claws. The Khajiit's ears were folded back as he thought about the executioners and all the pain they had caused. The alchemist had been looking forward to ending the life of an executioner ever since he left Winterhold. They had murdered his dear sister Shaleez and they would die for it.

"Dro will not let you or Sithis down, Listener." He shot the reptile a look as he thought about the one who was to be his ally in the battle. "He will also not let his comrade fall."

"I am not worried, Dro," the mage chuckled lightly. "He is one of the toughest men I know. He's the one who is not going to allow you to fall." Brelyna leaned against her husband making the mage let out a gentle sigh as he rested his head against hers. "We can do this, Brelyna. We've faced a great wizard before."

"Yes, and if my memory serves me correctly, it was Lucien who killed Wuunferth," the Mer said quietly as she allowed her fingers to linger in the blaze of the flames.

"I was talking about Ancano," the Listener explained as he pulled away and stared sadly into the fire.

KaNack normally would have been pacing and restless due to anticipation for the upcoming fight. The sudden abandonment by his guardian spirit, however, was affecting him and he was still finding it hard to accept. After so many years of having Lucien by his side, it felt like the family was incomplete. Everyone from the sanctuary was there, but without the Spectral Assassin, it left a feeling of emptiness in the pit of his soul.

The other members of the Dark Brotherhood were more than a little aware of how difficult it was for him going into this without the protective oversight of the Dark Brotherhood spirit. They tried to keep their Listener from focusing too much on their missing spirit and more on the upcoming combat. KaNack was going to need to be prepared if him and Brelyna were to survive their encounter with Othrelos.

"Dro has heard stories about the Winterhold Five and their accomplishments during the war," the alchemist interjected as he wrapped his coat around him tighter, shivering from the bitter chill. "You will be victorious."

Brelyna smiled as she held up the small golden amulet that was hanging from around her neck. Both she and her husband wore the emblems of the Winterhold Five, ready to once again fight those they cared about and what they believed in.

A light whistling suddenly sounded from the dense trees causing all four of the companions to be on their guard. The Dark Brotherhood leader's eyes narrowed and he sucked in a deep breath.

"LAAS YAH NIR."

One of his most silent Shouts, the Argonian's Thu'um did not cause the approaching enemies to be on their guard. KaNack could see five forms surrounding them and slowly making their approach to the small campsite. Four were on the ground and one was in the trees and moving much faster than the others.

"The Morag Tong is here," the Argonian growled as he and the others rose to their feet. "They don't suspect a thing."

Dro'marash scampered over to the mouth of the Shrouded Grove cave and poked his head inside. "Dro hopes that you have all prepared yourselves."

The Listener had planned accordingly and knew that eventually the Morag Tong would start following the first party from a distance. Once the executioners had left Dawnstar, it was only a matter of the remaining members of the family being transported to Shrouded Grove by the red dovah, Odahviing. Even when taking a flight path that would keep them out of sight of the Morag Tong, the remaining Brotherhood members traveled much faster and arrived well over an hour before any of the others. While waiting for the first party to arrive, Nazir had the others hide in the cave that was located next to what was to be the designated campsite.

Kaie, ever the stealthy one, kept to the trees rather than stay in the cave. The Breton wanted to be sure to alert the rest of her family as soon as the warlock and the rest of his killers started to approach their camp. The Dark Brotherhood was not going to be ambushed by anyone that night.

Nazir shoved the feline out of his way as he left the cave, Babette and Cicero following close behind.  
"Don't think that just because I've got a few more wrinkles than you that I can't still swing my scimitar," the Redguard grumbled as he joined the rest of the Dark Brotherhood members by the fire. Soon, practically every member of the Dawnstar Sanctuary was surrounding the large fire.

"Cicero has been just itching to kill again," the jester snickered as wrapped an arm around the shoulder of the feline. "He may not have been able to slay a cat, but he will work with one to send an executioner to the Void."

The Listener crossed his arms as he scanned the young and old faces around him. These were more than just his followers, these were his family. Alone, any of them could fall to the skilled blades of the Morag Tong, but together they just might have the upper hand.

"Remember what I told you all before leaving Dawnstar," the Argonian started quietly. "Don't try to fight any of these killers alone. They have slandered the name of the Dark Brotherhood and are responsible for the deaths of many of our beloved brothers and sisters." KaNack turned to face the woods, focusing on the red silhouettes that continued to prowl closer. "Work as one and make sure that their souls are sent to Sithis to suffer for all the pain that they have caused us."

KaNack pointed in four different directions to guide the other members of his family in the direction of the executioners who believed that they still could not be seen and had the upper hand in the ambush. "The warlock is in the center. Brelyna and I will handle Othrelos. The rest of you spread out and surround your prey. The Morag Tong will regret the day they decided to cross the followers of Sithis."

"Let's kill someone!" the Fool of Hearts cried out before rushing off into the dark forest with the red and crimson Khajiit close behind.

Babette walked over to the mage and looked up at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "I hope you know what you are getting into, KaNack," the unchild said quietly. "You know that wizard is not going to fall easily."

"Neither shall we," the Black Hand leader insisted darkly as he kept his eyes focused on the red cloud that he knew was the Dunmer sorcerer. "Make sure that the old man doesn't break a hip out there, Babette."

"Make sure YOU don't end up cracking another horn," the Redguard snorted as he unsheathed his scimitar. "Babette, my girl, retirement's been great, and this most likely is the last chance I will ever get to kill. So try and make it last so that I can have some fun as well."

"I would never deny you the glory of a good murder, old friend," Babette smirked. The two then hurried off into the forest as well, vanishing into the shadows.

Vytalas pulled his ebony bow from his back and his red eyes scowled hatefully in the distance. "I don't care what happens out there, so long as I get to make Dinya suffer."

"Well, go then, Vytalas," Brelyna stated as she gently took her husband's hand. "Do whatever you must to keep yourself and the others alive."

"I will not let you or the Dark Brotherhood down," the archer hissed before flying off to pursue his gray skinned prey.

The female mage turned to KaNack with a hint of concern in her red eyes. "Shouldn't he have waited for Kaie?" the Dark Elf asked.

"Kaie will be there waiting for him, don't worry. No one is going to be facing any executioner alone." His head lowered as he squeezed Brelyna's hand. "Are you ready, my love?"

"Yes."

KaNack held his head up proudly and his hands lit into small flames that hardly affected the fire resistance of the elf standing beside him. He leaned down to press his lips to his beloved Mer's temple before facing the direction of where he would find the ancient warlock.

"For Onmund then?"

"For Onmund," the Dunmer agreed before the two hurried off to face the one who had been responsible for all their pain and all of the cruel losses across Skyrim. It was time to make the Morag Tong regret coming back from the dead.

* * *

Beem-Ja's yellow eyes narrowed as he continued to prowl forward in the snow towards the Shrouded Grove cave. The message that had been left for the Morag Tong had provided the executioners with the exact location of the Dark Brotherhood's campsite. With the element of surprise in their favor, it was going to be a massacre. The reptile's grip on the hilt of his ebony sword tightened as he continued deeper into the woods.

His fellow executioners had spread out in order to surround the small camp and prevent any chance for the assassins to escape and this pleased the Argonian to no end. The Khajiit, Ra'jiir, had been one of his closest friends growing up in the war torn country of Morrowind. The cat races were rare and uncommon and the white and gray feline someone had separated from his people and ended up an adoptive brother to the blue Argonian. They played together, trained together, and starved together as it was hard to make ends meet in the ravaged land of the Dark Elves.

It was Othrelos who approached them and made a promise that if they devoted themselves to him they would be part of something huge and never again would know the sensation of going a day without eating. Imagine the Argonian's frustration when it seemed that once they traveled to Skyrim, he had almost immediately separated the two insisting that the reptile's skills were better and Ra'jiir was too quick to act and could not be trusted to infiltrate one of the many guilds in Skyrim. Perhaps if the sorcerer had kept them together, the Khajiit would not have met such a gruesome end in Dawnstar. The honor of the Morag Tong no longer mattered to the marsh-dweller; he was now out for blood.

The scaled executioner paused when he thought he heard snow crunching and lowered to the ground, peering at the land around him. The Dark Brotherhood's campsite was less than a quarter of a mile away, there was no possibility that the assassins knew where they were or that they had come. The Argonian tensed when he heard a hiss that was all too familiar to him. One does not spend that much time with a Khajiit and not learn that exact sounds they produced. The executioner rolled to the side and held up his sword, blocking the swinging strike of the black and crimson assassin of the Brotherhood.

"Wretched reptile," the feline growled. "Dro will send you to the Void."

Beem-Ja shoved his sword forward knocking the Khajiit back a few steps. This was the Listener's alchemist, he relied on toxins to kill, not his strength.

"You're a discredit to your own race, cat!" the reptile spat at Dro bitterly as he swung his sword at the swift assassin's heard. The alchemist tumbled to the side and crouched into a pouncing position, his tail swishing with anticipation and his ears flat against his head.

"And you are not even a fraction of the Argonian the Listener is!"

The Morag Tong member could see that the assassin's blade was glistening; it had been coated in a toxic poison. He would have to be on guard so as to not get so much as a nick on his body. Baring his sharp teeth in a snarl, Beem-Ja began to skulk towards the Khajiit.

"DIE!"

The screech had come out of nowhere, but the pain that followed was quick and excruciating. Something slashed directly across the executioner's side. Grunting in pain, the Argonian swung his blade and stumbled to the side glaring out towards his attacker.

"Ah! Cicero, Dro'marash's good friend. I see you could not keep up with the Khajiit's speed."

"Cicero is still sore from his encounter with the Tong's killer kitty, but he is not about to let you have all the glory of the fight!"

Beem-Ja's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the colorfully clothed Imperial before him. Vytalas had mentioned at the ruins that the Khajiit was going to be part of the party, but he had not heard of or even had seen the peculiar man before. However, this Cicero definitely had revealed to him that he had encountered his furred brother in arms.

"Ra'jiir?" the Argonian hissed. "You speak of Ra'jiir?"

"Is that what his name was?" Dro'marash snickered as both he and the Fool of Hearts began to circle the lone Argonian like a hawk. "The Listener made quick work of that executioner. He shared with Dro all the glorious details."

"The Khajiit went to the Void frightened, executioner," Cicero added in dark glee. "He witnessed the wrath of Sithis firsthand and will now suffer it eternally in the Void."

"Roasted alive in the bitter cold of a Dawnstar winter," the alchemist continued. The Morag Tong had brought so much pain to the Dark Brotherhood, causing one of their killers such grief gave the two assassins a great feeling of satisfaction. "Khajiit should have been grateful; no sand-walker would have wanted to die cold."

"He was my brother!" the scaled being screamed furiously as he lunged at Dro'marash, swinging his sword with a purpose. The furred killer arched to the side to avoid the first swing, but had not expected the reptile to produce an elven dagger in his other clawed hand. Beem-Ja swiped the golden weapon across the torso of the cat and spun on his heels to block the ebony blade of the jester that had charged at him.

"Oh! Cicero has one too!" The Keeper remarked as he noticed the new weapon the executioner was brandishing. "He got it from the feline prior to his frying!" The Keeper tittered darkly as he pulled out the enchanted elven dagger from its sheath. His golden eyes widened in delight as he saw the anger on the Morag Tong's face.

"That?! That was blade I had made for Ra'jiir! You don't deserve to have that weapon on your person!" he roared as he drove the dagger forward at the Fool of Hearts. Cicero danced to the side and bowed playfully, a blade in each hand.

"The Morag Tong gave it to Cicero!" the Imperial insisted. "He plunged it into my leg and left it there! Since he did not bother getting it back, it now belongs to me!"

"I'm going to kill you!" the enraged Argonian screamed as he rushed towards the maddening jester, his eyes shining a bright yellow in the moonlight that was glistening through the trees. He swung his sword and dagger furiously at the Fool of Hearts, but the jester seemed to block every attack, laughing madly the entire time.

"Even hurt! Even wounded, Cicero cannot be touched by your blades! Too slow! Too brutish!" A wicked smile crawled up the Keeper's face. "Too bad." The fool twirled in place, using both daggers to slash at Beem-Ja's arm, making him drop the elven dagger.

Backtracking a few wary steps, the executioner kept his eyes locked with the menacing assassin before him. The Imperial's face was haunting with his eyes wide with malice and a toothy grin that appeared to take up most of the lower half of his jaw.

Sound of crunching snow behind him alerted the reptile that the other assassin was once again making an attempt to strike. Beem-Ja lowered to the snow and swung his leg around, knocking Dro flat onto his back. The Keeper sprang at him next and both daggers plunged deep into the reptile's shoulder blades.

"Damned clown!" the reptile snarled as his elbow sprang back and jabbed severely right into where Cicero's recovering wound was still lingering from his encounter with Ra'jiir. Neither the Listener nor Brelyna had been made aware of the Imperial's close brush with death; the injury had not been tended to by a restoration spell. It was still tender and the blow caused the Fool of Hearts to release his weapons and lurched back, hugging his abdomen tenderly as pain overtook him.

"Gah! Cruel lizard! Cicero is still sore!" the Keeper barked as he dropped to a knee.

Beem-Ja did not have time to focus on the jester as he pulled the enchanted blade from his shoulder and drove it deep into Dro'marash's hand that had been clutching the poisoned dagger. The Khajiit screeched in pain and scowled furiously at into the yellow eyes of the injured executioner.

"Now, cat. I'm going to kill you, and then your pathetic fool back there," the Argonian growled darkly. Beem-Ja hissed in pain when alchemist swiped the claws of his free hand hard across the neck of the reptile causing him leap back in both shock and pain. "You little bastard! I'm going to turn your tail into a scarf to keep me warm in this miserable land!"

The executioner held up his ebony sword, but was shocked when suddenly both Cicero and Dro'marash began snickering wickedly. Turning to look at the Imperial, the reptile saw that Cicero was still hugging himself and showing no sign of getting up to attack, but his sinister laughter was unnerving. Beem-Ja spun around to glare at the alchemist and kept his sword held up, ready to defend himself.

Dro ripped the dagger from his hand and his orange eyes glowed brightly as he leered towards the Argonian, still laughing evilly.

"What's so funny, cat?" Beem-Ja demanded.

"Dro has already killed you," the Khajiit answered as he held up his claws, revealing them to be glistening with a coating of poison. A sense of horror overcame the reptile as he placed a hand to his neck where the assassin's deadly scratch had made contact, he could already feel a numbing sensation in his throat.

"The kitty's claws are like a serpent's bite. You have fought your last this night," Cicero sang ominously as he rose to his feet and started to prowl towards the stunned executioner. The alchemist pulled out a rag and began to wipe the poison from his claws as he also approached his dying prey.

Beem-Ja let out a deep sigh as he lowered to a knee and accepted the fact that he had been bested. It would only be a matter of time before his lungs became paralyzed by the poison and he would meet his end.

"I had hoped I would have been able to avenge the death of my brother, Ra'jiir, by killing you. I see now that I will not be getting that opportunity."

"The Morag Tong killed Dro's sister, Shaleez," Dro'marash hissed down at the blue reptile. "Did you honestly think we were going to simply roll over and not make you all pay for the pain you have caused the Brotherhood?"

"I know what you are going through," Beem-Ja coughed. It was getting more difficult to speak. "Beast races have a tendency to be drawn towards one another for companionship. Khajiits and Argonians make the most loyal of allies. Othrelos may not have cared about us, but Ra'jiir and I were just as connected to one another as you were to the sister you lost. " The scaled killer's eyes narrowed. "We should have just stayed in Morrowind."

"You dare compare what you had to the family bonds of the Dark Brotherhood?" the Keeper asked as he crossed his arms and glowered down at the executioner. "What we have is tighter than whatever you could possibly hope to perceive. We are the Brotherhood. We are a family and we shall always remain the true guild of assassins."

"I underestimated you," the Argonian admitted quietly as he looked up at the alchemist with hazy eyes. "Clearly there was a reason that the Morag Tong vanished and the Dark Brotherhood thrived." He coughed a few times and clasped a clawed hand to his throat; he could hardly breathe. "At least I now go to the Void to join my fallen brother." A sad smile formed on the executioner's face as he began to slowly lay himself down into the snow. "I'm coming, Ra'jiir. Let's suffer the wrath together."

The jester and Khajiit were silent as they watched the Morag Tong member struggle to breathe, and then eventually stop as the poison took control and paralyzed the body. Neither was able to tell when exactly the Argonian died, but Dro's toxic scratch had claimed yet another soul for the Void.

"He was not one of us," Dro'marash said quietly as he pulled two small red potion bottles from his satchel and handed one to the jester, "but he did certainly die like one of us though." The Khajiit smirked and held out the healing elixir in a toast. "All hail Sithis."

"All hail Sithis."

There was a light clink as the two toasted to the Dread Father with their restoration potions and downed the contents of the elixir in a victory over their fallen enemy.

* * *

Somewhere along the journey, Babette had separated herself from the older assassin, Nazir. The Speaker did not care; he had known the Unchild long enough to realize that she would not allow herself to be removed too far from the fray. If he needed her, the vampire would make her appearance.

It had been hard for Nazir to accept the fact that he had been growing old and the days of going out on contracts were behind him. Allowing himself to fall victim to such a simple trap in Volunruud during their attempt to rescue Cicero alerted him that he was losing his touch and was not as on his toes as he once was. He had approached KaNack afterwards shortly to tell him that he was ready to hang his weapon up and that he was no longer able to kill in the name of Sithis.

The Listener was a kind and understanding leader however; he understood how important the Redguard's pride was. That was why instead of allowing the older man to just reside around the sanctuary like a houseguest; he gave him the honorable title of Speaker. Nazir had never expected to ever become a member of the Black Hand, but embraced the role and adapted to it better than he thought he ever would. The older man, however, still longed to swing his sword, and was more than a little thrilled when his leader approached him with the plan to eliminate the Morag Tong. Uniting as a family was the only way to defeat the executioners, and once again the reptile proved that even when he seemed at the end of his ropes; he always proved himself in the end to be a true leader to the Dark Brotherhood.

Nazir's eyes widened when he finally came upon one of the executioners and sped up his charge as he rushed her, scimitar held up high in the air. He had come across the Morag Tong's other fighter, Adara, and she was more than a little surprised to see the black cloaked man coming right for her.

The woman pulled the shield from her back and held it up to block the strike of the Speaker and took a few wary steps back as she drew her sword and glowered at him.

"Who in Oblivion are you, old man?" she demanded angrily.

"I am a Redguard, if you hadn't noticed." His eyes narrowed as he began to sidestep trying to position himself a strike where he could get around the infuriating shield. "But not like you. No. Not like YOU!"

He growled as he swung his sword once more and his frustration grew as he heard the resounding thudding sound of his blocked attack.

"Aren't you a little old to be swinging such a dangerous weapon?" Adara snorted as she slashed at the Dark Brotherhood member, causing him to strike the weapon away with his own. "You're going to get yourself hurt."

"Hmmph!" Nazir uttered with a smirk. "In my day, we respected our elders." He gripped his weapon tightly and his eyes glanced around, seeking Babette. There was no sign of the vampire; surely he couldn't have beaten her here?

"I don't have time for you!" Adara announced as she backtracked towards the direction of the camp. "I have more vital business to attend to. If you want me to put you out of your misery, hang around right here! I'll gladly give you a good death!"

"How did a brat like you ever live long enough to get out of Hammerfell?" Nazir snorted. "Look at the way you hold your blade! You have no idea what you are doing! I've seen children wield toy swords better!"

The executioner's eyes narrowed and she charged forward, slamming her shield into the Redguard and slamming him hard into a tree causing the older man to grit his teeth in pain.

"Damn back," he hissed under his breath. "You're making me look bad." The older man reached around the shield and cuffed the petulant woman hard on the ear making her dance back from the sudden pain. Her eyes were burning with fury that he had struck her with such a minor blow, yet it caused her to wince like a little girl.

"Lousy bastard!" she hissed as she held a hand to her ear. "Just what are you trying to prove?"

"I am trying to prove that the followers of Sithis, unlike the Morag Tong, will never die." The Speaker's eyes narrowed to slits as he held the scimitar up defensively and began to circle the executioner. "I have lived long enough to serve under three different leaders in the Dark Brotherhood and I'll be damned if I see the guild come to an end before my time!"

"Dark Brotherhood?" Adara snarled as she rushed as Nazir and tried once more to knock him back with her shield. The Redguard sidestepped it and had a clear opening to the fighter's unguarded back. The curved sword easily slashed across it, but the Speaker had to dance back as the woman spun around and tried to strike him a second time with her blade. "Who exactly are you in the Dark Brotherhood? What place does an elderly fool like you have in a guild of assassins?"

"Age does not matter!" Nazir announced proudly. "So long as one embraces the Dread Father, he or she is ALWAYS a part of the Dark Brotherhood! We've had people as young as sixteen and as old as three hundred actively participating in the faction!" The Redguard grunted as he struck once again and his scimitar bounced harmlessly off Adara's shield.

"Well, I think it's time to remove the weaker members of the herd, don't you think?" the Morag Tong fighter asked as she lunged her sword forward. As Nazir sidestepped out of the way, the Redguard slammed her shield once more into him, knocker the older man to the ground. "Pathetic old fetcher!" she barked stomping her heavy boot on top of the Speaker's chest, knocking his scimitar away with her weapon. "Did you honestly think you could kill me all by yourself?"

"You know what?" Nazir grumbled bitterly as he glared up at her. "I really had hoped I could. We can't always get what we want in life though. I may not get to kill you, but at least I will have the privilege of living out the rest of my golden years. Something you will never have the pleasure of doing."

"What in Oblivion is that supposed to mean?" Adara hissed.

"Babette!" the Speaker called out as he glared out into the woods. "I think I've roughed her up enough for you. Go ahead and finish the job!"

The executioner stirred when she heard what sounded like childlike giggling behind her. The woman spun around and saw a child who did not appear much older than ten beaming out at her from behind a large tree.

"Hi," Babette giggled sweetly as she came forward, grasping her skirt in tight fists and swaying it playfully. "My name is Babette, what's yours?"

"What?" the Morag Tong fighter muttered in confusion before turning to glare down at Nazir. "Who is this? Your daughter? You think I won't kill you in front of your kid?"

Nazir let out a bark of laugh as he shook his head at her. "My daughter?! I'm old, but I'm not THAT old!"

The giggling was louder and Adara turned her head to the side and saw that Babette was now standing right next to her.

"I wanna play a game with you," the Unchild started sweetly as her eyes began to shine brightly in the moonlight.

"Wait…I've seen eyes like those before," Adara murmured. "One of our executioners, Xander, but he was a…"

A realization hit the executioner and her eyes widened in horror at the tiny creature that was practically breathing down her neck.

"The game is called tag," the Dark Brotherhood member snickered as she bore her fangs, "and I'm it."

Adara did not stand a chance against the speed and strength of a three hundred year old vampire. The executioner was tackled to the ground and her piercing shrieking soon turned to guttural groans as the Unchild did what any vampire would do when the opportunity presented itself- -feed.

Nazir grunted as he slowly pulled himself up onto his feet and cracked his back. "By Sithis, I am going to be feeling this in the morning," he groaned miserably as his back ached with pain. Babette wiped at her mouth with her sleeve and made her way over to her friend and took his hand in hers.

"Oh, you youngsters these days," she sighed. "The slightest tap and you go crying for a healer." She began to lead Nazir back towards the camp, feeling giddy and full of life after such a satisfying feeding. "I'm in a really good mood right now, so I'll be more than happy to put something together to ease those fragile bones of yours."

"I'll have you know, Babette," the Redguard grumbled. "I did most of the work. The reason you were able to kill her so easily was because I weakened the executioner for you!"

"Of course you did, old friend. Of course," the vampire giggled as she continued to lead the Speaker through the woods.

"Are you patronizing me?"

"No, never," she snickered.

* * *

Dinya hummed happily to herself as she took her time walking through the snowy woods towards Shrouded Grove. The letter had been left exactly where her handsome Dunmer had said it was going to be and provided the exactly location of the Dark Brotherhood's campsite. The Morag Tong was now few in numbers; that would hardly matter once they killed the Listener.

Shortly afterwards, it would just be a matter of time before Vytalas shared with them all the secrets of the assassins guild and eliminated the rest of the remaining stragglers in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. The other hidden sanctuaries would also fall once the archer shared their locations; then that in turn could be provided to the Companions, Imperial Legion and the vengeful mages of the Winterhold College. Skyrim would soon be free of every last one of Sithis' followers. How amusing that all it took was one lone Dunmer to lead to the downfall of an entire country's guild?

Dinya paused as she heard a scream of pain off in the distance. It had not come from the direction of the camp, but off to the side.

"Beemy?" the she-elf muttered as her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She pulled out her daedric bow and drew an arrow, scanning the area around her for any sign of enemies. It was entirely possible that the Argonian ran into a bear or a pack of wolves, but the executioner had her suspicions.

Dinya picked up a sound of rustling in the trees and did not hesitate to shoot an arrow directly where she had heard the sound. The Mer was more than a little disappointed when a dead squirrel fell down into the snow, looking grossly impaled by the arrow.

"Oh, poo," she hissed. "I had hoped it was…"

The elf let out a cry of surprise when she felt something heavy land on top of her, crashing her hard into the snow. The Dunmer turned her head furiously to see who was on top of her and was startled to see one whom she had not expected to be alive.

"Dinya, is it?" Kaie hissed as she drove her elbow into the elf's spine, enjoying the growl of pain it produced from the Dark Elf. "I'd like to have a word with you regarding your behavior towards Vytalas."

"You're supposed to be dead!" the infuriated elf snarled as she threw her hand back and the sharp jagged end of her bow stabbed into Kaie's shoulder. The Breton hissed and pulled out her blade, grasping the bow in one hand and promptly sliced the strong wire of the Dunmer's deadly weapon.

"You bitch!" Dinya bucked the assassin off her and stared furiously at her bow which was now useless to her. "Do you have any idea what you have done?! This bow is ten times what your miserable life is worth!"

"You got ripped off then," Kaie remarked with a smirk as she grasped her dagger tightly in her hand. "The wire cut just as easily as any other bow."

The Dunmer's scowl slowly melted into one of amusement as she allowed the bow to drop to the snow unceremoniously. "So, the rumors of your death have been grossly exaggerated. Let's see if I can't do anything to fix that." The warlock's daughter pulled her daedric blade from its sheath and ran the dagger along her tongue drawing blood.

The Breton took a step back and her eyes widened in shock. "By Sithis, Vytalas was right. You really are insane."

"Me? I'm not the one worshipping a corpse, now am I?" the Mer answered simply as she arched back in a striking position. "I also am not one whose leader takes advice from a transparent blue dog."

Dinya's ears perked up and she tumbled to the side just as an ebony arrow embedded itself where she had been standing. She rolled to her feet and her eyes widened in delight at the sight of the large Dunmer emerging from the trees.

"There you are, sweetie! Its time that we brought this silly love triangle to an end!" She grinned wickedly as she tossed her dagger from hand to hand.

Vytalas growled in his throat as he joined the Breton's side and kissed her on her head.

"Good job ridding her of the bow," he said proudly before his red eyes shot angrily towards the she-elf.

"Please, Vytalas," Dinya snorted. "You can try and deny it all you want, but when my father branded you, you turned to me for comfort! You can't deny what we have!"

"Have?! I had metal burning into my flesh! The only thing that kept me from shunning your icy touch was blinding pain! As you can clearly see, the Morag Tong are the ones who have walked right into the ambush!"

"You call this an ambush?" the Mer snickered as she began to casually stroll before the two, tapping her weapon against her hip. "All you did was bring all of your little family members together to get eliminated in one fell swoop." She bit at her knuckle as she leered over at the couple. "If your precious Argonian truly had an ace up his sleeve, he would have played it by now. If this is the Dark Brotherhood's final 'hoorah', it really has sunk to a new low."

The executioner licked her teeth as she began to prowl towards the assassins. "I'll end the girl, but I'm not going to kill you right away, sweetie. I have plans for you before ending your simple life." She then chuckled darkly. "Maybe Father can turn your corpse into a thrall, that way I could still have you in the end." She shrugged. "You may not talk as much, but it's not really your conversational skills I am interested in."

"By Sithis," Kaie gasped in horror in disgust as she turned to look at Vytalas. "THAT is what you had to deal with in that ruin?!"

"She was better behaved in front of her bastard father," grumbled the Mer. "Clearly our beloved jester Cicero has been out-crazied."

"I feel sorry for you," the Breton insisted as she gave Dinya a sad look. "Obviously you're sick in the head and that has made you the way you are today. Perhaps once you are sent to the Void, you will be granted some form of sanity so that you understand just what is happening to you."

"I don't need your pathetic sympathy!" she spat venomously as her prowling came to a halt and her eyes burned with hatred. "The problem with the Dark Brotherhood is that they claim to be cold-blooded and merciless killers, but they are no such thing! That Argonian turned you all into a bunch of fluffy kittens who only bear their claws and teeth after they have been properly threatened!"

"Do not mistake the love of our family as a weakness, Dinya," the archer grumbled as he aimed his ebony bow at her. "Family is what makes us strong. The Morag Tong does not embrace each other and that is why you have lost so many of your executioners! Maybe if you actually gave a damn about one another's lives, more of you would have survived!"

He released the arrow and Dinya struck the arrow in midair with her daedric blade, preventing it from hitting her. A twisted smile crept up her lips. "Oh, you think we're the weak ones because we refuse to cry if one of us falls?"

"No," Kaie smirked. "You are the weak ones because you cared so little about one another's safety that you allowed yourself to separate. For every executioner out here, Dinya, there are two members of the Brotherhood." The Breton's blade glistened in the moonlight as she got into a fighting stance. "Your father isn't here to protect you, little Mer."

"I am not the one who needs protecting," the she-elf growled as she strolled over to where her discarded bow was and kicked it up into her hands, brandishing the wireless weapon like a crude dagger. Vytalas' teeth clenched together tightly as he replaced his bow with his dagger. "I'm not Father's second in command just because we share the same blood." The executioner tore through the snow towards the two assassins with both daedric weapons grasp firmly in her hands.

The Breton dropped to a knee to dodge the swinging blade, while Vytalas used his ebony dagger to block the bow that had been directed at his head. Dinya kicked her foot backwards, knocking Kaie to the ground as she began to duel wield items, focusing all her attention on the Dark Brotherhood's archer.

"Come on, sweetie! You're more than just a bow man, aren't you?" she cackled as she relentlessly continued to swing both her bow and dagger at the Dunmer causing him to either weave out of the way or strike back the deadly blow with his ebony blade.

"Lucien Lachance was a guide to more than just the Listener, Dinya!" the Mer snarled as he reached forward to grab the bow. As his hand clenched it tightly, the sharp and jagged edges cut into his palm, but the pain hardly fazed him as the assassin was consumed by his hatred for the Morag Tong. He ripped his dagger through the air in an attempt to put the wretched she-elf down permanently.

The executioner released her bow and dashed to the side to avoid Vy's strike and she gazed upon him hungrily as smiled wickedly at him. "So the dog was the family pet then? How charming. I'd be willing to teach you a few moves too, sweetie, if you…"

Dinya screeched in pain as something slashed her violently across her back. The Dark Elf spun on her heels the daedric blade gripped tightly in her hand and snorted in fury when she saw Kaie leap away from the attack and then hurry to once again join Vytalas' side.

"I've had about just all I can take, you Dunmer witch!" the Breton hissed as she kept her simple blade clutched tightly in her hand.

"That's it," grumbled Dinya as she took a few wary steps backwards, her eyes temporarily losing their playful glimmer. "Your intrusions are becoming tiring. It's time I did something to keep the two of you separated."

Vytalas' eyes widened and he held an arm protectively in front of Kaie as he recognized what the Mer was about to do. The Dark Elf let out a loud scream of anger as her entire body burst into flames and she glared hatefully in the Breton's direction. "Stand back unless you want to get burned, mouse!" Dinya charged towards the two, her ancestral wrath consuming her body with bright and powerful flames.

"Kaie, get back!" the archer demanded as he raced forward to meet the rampaging Dunmer. The two elves blades clashed against one another as they met and the horrible scraping of metal echoed across the normally peacefully forests in the Pale. The fire did not faze Vytalas at all as he continued to strike his blade at the mad female before him.

"That's right, sweetie!" Dinya hissed as her blade struck left and right trying to make contact with the soft skin of the Dark Elf. "Unless your precious Breton wants to get scorched, she's just going to have to watch from the sidelines!" She managed to grab the assassin's wrist in hers and pulled him close so that her lips were to his remaining ear. "I'm going to break you and then ravage you before her," she rasped evilly. The archer shoved the executioner away with a snarl of revulsion.

"Vytalas!" The Brotherhood elf turned around and saw Kaie throwing her dagger towards him. The Dark Brotherhood member grabbed it and spun around to face the Morag Tong, now dual wielding two dangerous blades.

"How romantic," Dinya snorted as the flames continued to cloak her. "Your lover gave you the only weapon she had to defend herself. How selfless, how noble," the twisted smile returned, "how foolish."

The Mer dove past the large Dunmer's swinging blades and began to sprint directly towards Kaie, her red eyes burning with malice and delight. "Here I come, my dear! I hope you don't mind a little heat!"

The female assassin cursed under her breath and turned back around, scrambling up a nearby tree to seek refuge in the tall overhanging branches.

"You think elves can't climb trees?!" Dinya leaped up and grabbed a branch, but gasped in pain when she felt something pierce into her hip. The she-elf dropped to the snow and grasped the ebony arrow in a tight fist before ripping it heartlessly from her body. Letting out shallow breaths of pain, Dinya slowly turned around to shoot a murderous look at her attacker.

Vytalas grabbed another arrow from his quiver and aimed it at the Morag Tong who was close to frothing at the mouth in both pain and anger. Her fire shroud vanished, but there was still something dangerous burning within her. His target did not hesitate as she bolted right at him, sidestepping out of the way just as he released his arrow.

"Oh, Sithis," the archer hissed as he tried to grab another arrow and braced himself for the impact. Dinya pounced into him, digging the daedric blade deep into his side as they both collapsed to the ground. The archer let out a snarl of pain as Dinya twisted the blade into his side. The executioner turned her head and cruel smirk crossed her face as she saw that the Mer's lover was racing towards her. Kaie's charge came to a halt when she finally saw the blade embedded into the assassin's side.

"Mouse, you don't want to be the one responsible for Vytalas' death, do you?" she asked her sweetly as she plunged the blade in deeper, making the assassin released a grunt of agony.

"Vy!" the female held up her hand submissively as she began to step backwards. The she-elf was psychotic and she didn't want to risk doing anything that could lead to the death of her beloved archer. Vytalas' red eyes narrowed in pain and anger as he tried to plunge his arrow into the neck of the reprehensible female.

The executioner twisted her blade again which caused the assassin to drop the arrow and scream in pain. "Oh, sweetie. Did you really think you were going to be able to kill me that easily?"The archer growled in disgust and shuddered as Dinya ran her tongue along his neck. "You've been a very naughty boy, Vytalas," she purred into his remaining ear. "The best part about what happens next is that your little mousey Breton will have no choice but to watch." She leered down at the Dark Elf and shook her head at him. "Was that arrow the best you could do? You don't even have your bow to shoot it with."

"I didn't need my bow," Vytalas hissed at her as a wicked grin began to cross his face making Dinya's eyes widen in confusion. "I just needed you to get close enough." The Dark Elf's eyes went back to the ebony arrow and her jaw dropped slightly when she saw the small linen bag attached to it. "Let's find out how our racial resistance to fire fares against this."

The Assassin grabbed the executioner and held her close as he began to cast his own ancestral cloak of fire, coating both him and the arrow in flames.

Kaie shrieked and shielded her eyes, dropping to the ground as there was a loud explosion of flames directly next to the two Dark Elves.

"Vy! Sithis, no! VY!"

The Breton ran as fast as her legs could carry her to one of the two still forms laid out in the snow. She reached his lover and rolled him onto his face, grasping his face in her hands. His archer's shroud was burnt and shredded and his face had been blackened by the excruciating heat produced from his explosive arrow. Kaie gently stroked at his face as tears burned at her eyes.

The Dunmer coughed loudly and his eyes fluttered open, gazing up into the soft brown eyes of Kaie who obviously had suspected the worst. He managed a small smile up at her. "It's quite astounding a Dunmer's resistance to fire, isn't it my love?"

"You jerk!" Kaie screamed as she smacked him hard in the head. "I thought you were dead!"

"Ow! Hey, I'm going to be if you keep hitting me like that!" he insisted as he grabbed at her hand. A pained groan to the side alerted them that Vytalas wasn't the only one to survive the blast.

"You ass," Dinya hissed as she shot the two a dark look. "You let me take most to the blast. How could you treat a female like that?"

"Forgive me if I shed no tears over your suffering," the archer grumbled as he was slowly helped to his feet by the female assassin. Kaie helped Vytalas limp over to where the she-elf was recovering from the painful explosion of the ebony arrow. The Morag Tong elf shook her head as she weakly grinned up at the two.

"It doesn't matter. You still are marked," she snickered. "You'll always bear the mark of the Morag Tong, sweetie. You've been branded and will have no choice but to think of me every time you see it."

"Yes, about that, Dinya," the assassin started as he grabbed a handful of his shroud and pulled it up. The executioner's eyes widened in shock, not able to believe what her eyes were seeing. The mark of the Morag Tong was gone.

"No," she growled. "No! That's impossible! I saw you get branded by my father! You were marked!"

"Did you not bother to do any research on the Winterhold Five, Dinya?" Kaie asked as she glowered down at the confused Mer. "Every single mage in that group had a casting they were predominantly gifted in."

"The Listener, of course, had his conjurations," the Dark Elf assassin began, "the Nord had ice, the Bosmer fire, and the cat lightning."

"Can you take a wild guess at what our leader's wife, the Dark Elf mage, specialty was?" Kaie questioned the wounded Dunmer and could not resist the smile creeping up her face. She lovingly ran a hand along her lover's stomach where the mark had been. "Restoration."

"It was not easy," the archer insisted, "but Brelyna healed my burns and that mark is now nothing more than a painful memory."

"Well, aren't you all just the spitting image of how 'love heals all wounds'," Dinya remarked bitterly. "Fine then, I guess you win." She smirked once more and rolled onto her back gazing wickedly at the two. "Strike me, Vytalas. Strike me hard and end my life! Send me the Void!" she chuckled evilly. "Even if I do suffer, I know that it will destroy you to no end that you will have to spend eternity in the same place as me."

"I had spoken to the Listener earlier regarding you, Dinya," Vytalas stated calmly as he glowered down at the she-elf, "about the possibility of being able to take you alive."

"Alive? You are showing mercy to the Morag Tong's exquisite Dark Elf?" the executioner asked as she rolled onto her side and looked up at him lovingly. "Oh, sweetie. I knew deep inside you did care."

The Mer was confused when she saw the two lovers shake their head, both had begun chuckling wickedly.

"Dinya, you misunderstand," Kaie explained simply. "You were right when you told us that if we killed you, your soul would permanently haunt the Void. We might not ever see you, but your presence would always be there and that will not do at all."

"I will not spend an eternity in the same realm as you," the assassin stated. "That's why we're going to make sure that the Listener takes you on a nice little trip to Solitude."

"Solitude?" growled Dinya as her eyes narrowed. "Where I killed that miserable Nord officer?"

"General Tullius will have no peace of mind until he gets to carry out justice on at least one of the perpetrators responsible for his friend's death. Can you imagine how pleased he will be that it's the one who actually killed her?" Kaie said as she crossed her arms and leered down at the Dunmer.

Vytalas took a knee and leaned towards the Mer, a cruel smile crossing his lips. "You are going to have something of yours cut off in Solitude, Dinya," he chuckled evilly, "and I promise you, it will only hurt…a lot."


	25. Do Your Worst

KaNack's entire body was tense as he continued to prowl through the woods towards his dangerous target. He had tasted the fires of Othrelos and had not felt such a force since his encounter with Alduin in Sovngarde. The Morag Tong leader may have had experience and power in his favor, but the Argonian had his determination and even more importantly, companions.

The reptile pulled Brelyna close as he hid himself behind a large tree and peered around the trunk. He could see the Dunmer approaching in the far distance; the man strode with a purpose and seemed to not have the slightest worry; taking his time walking through the dense snow that had remained from the Pale's blizzard.

"There he is," the mage whispered quietly to his wife as he pulled out the Blade of Woe and began to coat it with a poison stored in his satchel. "Fire spells will do us no good here, Brelyna. None of our destruction magic will be of any good when he is at full strength. I had hoped to have had Vytalas' bow for this, but I might yet still manage to pull this off." He replaced the bottle in his satchel and scowled angrily at his foe. "We'll have to subdue him, only then will I be able to strike him with Dro'marash's poison." The Listener sheathed his blade that was now even deadlier than before. "I have an idea that might give me the time I need to kill him without having to get you involved."

"What are you thinking?" Brelyna asked as she peered over KaNack's shoulder to look at the warlock.

"I'm thinking first that I need a distraction." The Argonian's fist illuminated a light blue and he allowed the energy to drop to the ground before him. From the impacted land, the spectral wolf appeared and looked up at his caster expectantly. "Oh, Fang," he sighed as he took a knee and took the creature's head in his hands. "What I am going to ask of you is going to put you in danger and might end up causing you great pain. Are you willing to do this for me, old friend?"

The spirit's tail wagged happily as he stared lovingly up at the Dark Brotherhood leader. He had been KaNack's first conjuration and felt a fierce sense of loyalty and devotion to the reptile; he would go to the ends of Nirn and back if it had been asked of him.

"Faithful as always, Fang," KaNack said with a sad smile. He pointed a claw towards the direction of the advancing sorcerer. "Do what you must keep his attention; howl, bite, and scratch, show him just how dangerous a familiar can be."

Fang growled viciously and then sped off from around the tree, ready to face whatever being was threatening his beloved caster. The wolf was a transparent blur of blue mist as he flew effortlessly over the cold and slippery snow.

"What in Oblivion?" Othrelos muttered as he saw the spirit coming towards him. The Dark Elf's hands lit up in flames as a twisted smile crossed his lips. "So you knew we were coming, KaNack?" he grumbled. "That's fine; it will just make killing you all the more challenging and enjoyable." The Morag Tong leader shot his fireball towards the charging familiar and was startled when the agile creature leaped over it. Fang's lips curled back revealing sharp ghostly canines as he took to the air and latched onto Othrelos' arm.

The sorcerer screamed in pain and charged up another ball of flame in his other hand, striking the attacking spirit off of him. The wolf let out a pitiful yelp of pain, but struggled back onto his feet and faced the Dunmer with a dangerous growl. "That wasn't enough for you, mongrel?" Othrelos charged up another fireball in his hands as he glowered down at the snarling familiar.

"TIID KLO UL!"

Time around the Listener came to an abrupt halt as soon as the Thu'um crossed his lips and echoed through the woods. The Shout affected him as well, he moved much slower than usual, but not as much as those around him. KaNack unsheathed his blade and tried to rush at the Morag Tong leader. It was comical for the reptile, being at a full sprint and yet not moving much faster than a light stroll. He hoped that he could get close enough though; close enough to be able to strike the wizard down before the effects of the Shout wore off.

After what felt like an eternity, the Dark Brotherhood leader was now within striking distance of Othrelos and started to swing his hand back, preparing to plunge the deadly dagger into the Mer that had been the cause of so much death and despair in Skyrim. Before striking downward, the mage was overcome with a strange sense of heat towards his midsections. His eyes glancing downward, the mage was shocked. Too focused on getting to the Dunmer, he had not noticed that Othrelos had gradually realigned the direction of his fireball and now was aimed right at KaNack's abdomen.

"Oh, by Sithis."

Then time returned to its normal pace and the Argonian swung and the warlock cast his fireball. The mage was thrown twenty feet backwards from the power of the ancient wizard's fireball.

"Gah! Nice try, boy!" Othrelos snarled after him. "But you only managed to slash my shrouds! I commend you for the attempt though! Had I been about hundred years less experienced I might not have sensed you coming!" The Mer's gloating was cut short as Fang once again was on the attack and clamped his jaws onto the elf's left leg.

"KaNack!" Brelyna rushed from behind the tree and dropped down next him as she cast a restoration spell over his burns. "Are you all right?"

"Dammit! I thought I had him," the Argonian hissed as he sat up, feeling rejuvenated from his wife's healing. The mage's eyes widened with fury as he heard the explosive roar of a fire cast and the pitiful dying cry of his spiritual wolf. "Lousy bastard. Let's see how he fares against two!" Once again KaNack's hands began to glow a bright blue and he cast the two orbs of energy forward in the direction of the Morag Tong leader.

"How many conjurations do you have?!" the warlock barked furiously as he was now once again facing the storm thrall Brunner and now a large frost thrall as well. The Mer cast up a powerful ward as a large charge of lightning shot towards him and the frozen behemoth seemed adamant on smashing his head in with one of its massive arms.

KaNack sheathed his blade and rose to his feet turning to face the she-elf. "Use whatever lightning spells you have, Brelyna! I know that you have the power to help me bring this wretch to his knees!"

"Right!"

The two mages charged towards the fight, their hands crackling with electricity as they charged up their shock spells. Othrelos' teeth gritted together in frustration as he realized that now it was going to be four against one and those were odds that he did not like. Keeping a ward up with one hand, the sorcerer reached into his satchel, pulled out a white potion bottle and quickly downed its contents.

Brunner and Brock brought their assault to a halt as their target seemed to vanish right into thin air. The Dark Brotherhood leader skidded to a halt as soon as he reached his thralls and bared his small sharp teeth in a snarl.

"He's invisible, be on your guards!" the reptile command as his eyes went to the snow to keep an eye out for telltale footprints. There were deep imprints that seemed to be head off in the opposite direction, the Morag Tong leader was on the move. "He's trying to run! Follow me!"

Brelyna kept a steady pace behind her husband as the Argonian raced ahead keeping his focus on the heavy prints in the snow. She gasped as Brock suddenly sped past her and placed himself in front of the two mages. The two stumbled back as the frost thrall shattered into a thousand pieces in front of them having thrown himself before the Morag Tong leader's deadly fire cast. Brock knew that it would only be a matter of time before their enemy cast a spell in his conjurer's way and he was not going to allow him to fall if he could help it.

"It seems all of your companions are sacrificing themselves for you, lizard!" the Dark Elf's voice laughed at him in the distance. "Just how many are you going to let die because of you?"

The reptile's eyes began to glow a bright white as his inner fire began to grow hot. He knew that Brock had been in pain when he was sent back to the spectral plane; however he always knew that he had been willing to endure it. All of his thralls and spirits were dedicated to him and this had not been the first time that one had sacrificed itself to protect the Argonian.

"Don't worry, Brock. He's going to pay for that," the mage hissed as he pulled himself to his feet and took off after the sorcerer once again. The trail finally came to an end before an old Nordic ruin. KaNack slowed down and approached the large stone structure cautiously with Brelyna and Brunner still trailing behind him.

"What is this place?" the elf asked as she extended the small stairwell, her red eyes glancing upward at the large overhanging arch of rock.

"Silverdrift Lair," the Listener answered darkly as he checked the door in front of him for traps. "Years ago it had been overrun with bandits and draugr. I've been here once already with Cicero and cleared it out, though."

The Listener pushed open the door of the sepulcher and his eyes scanned the area for any sign of the deadly warlock. The area clear he made a motion with his hand for Brelyna to follow him. "Stay behind me," he growled before he began to prowl forward into the Nordic tomb.

Brelyna was aware of how careful KaNack was when moving through enemy territory. She had seen the same focus and determination on his scaled face during the war. It still shocked her that she could have known him for so many years and not have been aware of this secret life of worship and murder. The Dunmer just could not comprehend how her husband could have embraced a life so evil while still holding onto his sense of loyalty and devotion to her and the mages of Winterhold.

"KaNack," she whispered.

"Shhh."

"KaNack, if we do manage to kill him. What happens next?"

This question caused the Dark Brotherhood leader to pause and turn back around to face her. "What?"

"What about me and the College of Winterhold? What of General Tullius?" She shook her head at him. "KaNack, I love you and am willing to follow you no matter where you go, but none of the others will be able to look past this. You're the leader of the Dark Brotherhood."

"They can't know," he answered simply as he once again began to slink forward, his senses vigilant for any sight or sound that might alert them to the sorcerer's presence. "None of them can ever know."

"Lying does not come to me as easily as it does for you, KaNack," the she-elf stated quietly. "Solitude I can live without, but I don't think I am willing to give up the friends I have made in Winterhold over the years."

The Argonian let out a deep sigh as he turned around and took Brelyna's chin in his hand. "I would never keep you from J'Zargo or Brelas. Whatever you decide to do in the end, I will support it." He stared at her in desperation. "Just please don't do anything that would endanger my family's safety."

"I can't lie to them," she repeated turning her head away from him.

"Then don't," he answered. "I've kept the truth from all of them for eleven years. I am still willing to do the same." A sad smile formed on his face. "We can have both lives, Brelyna. I know it will never be as it once was, but that does not mean you have to give up everything just so the two of us can remain together."

The storm thrall suddenly charged forward through a tunnel, past the two mages. KaNack jumped as he heard the sound of crackling lightning and roaring flames.

"Othrelos," he hissed as he hurried to the door and peered into the tunnel. Further in was a passage that would lead to a multi-leveled chamber that would provide a variety of spots to seek shelter and cast ranged spells. Brunner had gone ahead to provide an ample distraction for the mages as well as give away the location of the Morag Tong's leader.

The Argonian scrambled forward with Brelyna following close behind and the two flattened themselves against each side of the entrance way to the central area of Silverdrift Lair. The Listener clutched a hand to his chest as he felt Brunner existence come to a sudden and very agonizing end.

"So, here we are at last!" Othrelos called up to the mages from the lower level of the room. "The leaders of the Morag Tong and the Dark Brotherhood about to take part in a winner take all fight to the death! As you can see, any conjuration you send my way will meet a very bitter end! Such a shame that it's your only specialty!"

"Don't act so confident, Othrelos!" KaNack shouted out at the Dark Elf. "As we speak your executioners are being put to the sword by the entire Dawnstar Sanctuary! They are outnumbered and outclassed! Once I send you to the Void, it will simply be a matter of clearing the Dark Brotherhood's name of these crimes!"

"The Dark Brotherhood? The band of noble criminals and glorified sellswords? Do you honestly think that even if you do manage to kill me that the Imperial Legion is simply going to stop hunting for you? You're still their enemy, KaNack!"

"You'd be surprised!" Brelyna called down to the sorcerer. "His words are quite convincing when he puts his mind to it."

"Ah, the lovely Dunmer mage! The Listener's ignorant spouse! You managed to escape death once my dear, but I am thrilled that you decided to accompany the lizard to the chamber. You see, it will give me the opportunity to personally spill even more of the Winterhold Five's blood."

Both mages tensed up at the warlock's words and the she-elf's eyes narrowed in anger.

"What do you mean personally?" she hissed down at him.

"Could you not guess? I'm the one who killed that gentle mage of yours in Winterhold along with your husband's sweet little apprentice!"

KaNack's upper lip curled up in a snarl as wave of rage flowed over him. He turned to look at his wife and could see that the woman was mere moments away from casting her ancient wrath cloak of fire.

"It was very sad how it happened!" the sorcerer continued, trying to anger the two out of hiding. "I had them both paralyzed. The Nord could not even defend himself; and the girl?!" He chuckled wickedly as a ball of flame began to burn in his hand. "Oh, Listener, how she suffered. It was made only worse knowing that she had failed you and the Dark Brotherhood. That's NOTHING compared to what I am going to do to you!"

The Listener grunted as he felt his hand get grabbed and turned his head to look at the sweet Dunmer next to him.

"He's trying to get you to do something stupid by angering you. Don't give him what he wants," she whispered giving the clawed hand a squeeze. It was very difficult, but the Argonian forced himself to swallow the rage building up within him and once again regain his composure.

"He is going to cast at us the moment we enter," the Dark Brotherhood leader said as his eyes glanced suspiciously at the entrance. "We'll have to seek shelter behind one of those pillars if we hope to have a clear shot at him. Keep up your ward and stay with me."

Brelyna nodded and summoned up a powerful ward as did the Listener. "GO!" The two charged through the door and started to race along the wall as rounds of fireballs smashed into their wards. KaNack dove behind one of the large stone support beams and pulled his wife close as they prepared for whatever was to come next.

"All the guilds hate you! Your thralls crumble before me! Even your beloved Dark Brotherhood spirit has deserted you in your time of need! It seems Sithis had deemed you unworthy to exist in this land!"

"The Dread Father is always with me!" the Listener announced furiously as he began to power up a charge of chain lightning. "No matter how much blood I spill or I shed, He will always be there to give me strength and support!"

"Such pathetic bravado!" the Morag Tong leader snarled up at him. "There are no spirits from the Void here to give you assistance, KaNack!"

"Maybe not," the Argonian grumbled as he pulled Brelyna close and a wicked smile crossed his face. "However, not all of my friends come from the Void!" He turned to Brelyna and took a hold of her shoulder. "Stay up here and provide us with covering fire."

"Us?" she asked.

"HUN KAAL ZOOR!" the Shout rattled the halls of the chamber and there was a swirling wave of blue and white before the two mages. Brelyna's jaw dropped as she saw the spirit of a large and rough looking Nord who was clasping a ferocious war axe before her. His body was adorned in strong heavy armor and his face was plastered with a scowl, his one undamaged eye glaring down at the two.

"Who is that?"

"Friend I made in Sovngarde," the mage answered simply.

"Finally decided that you needed a true warrior by your side, Dovahkiin?" the spirit asked gruffly. "We were beginning to wonder if any of us would see you again."

"Sorry, One-Eye," the caster remarked with a shrug. "I didn't want to keep you from your blessed life of drinking and sparring." The Dark Brotherhood leader's eyes narrowed. "I've called you now though to face one who threatens my family's existence."

"Does he?" the Nord growled as he turned to look at the lower level of the chamber. "Well, we've taken down the great worm, Alduin! This enemy shall fall as well!" Hakon One-Eye tightened his grip on his axe and gave an adamant nod of his head. "Let's smite this foe together then!"

The ghost looked back to the two casters and a smirk crawled up his face. "By the way, that little mage friend of yours asked me if I ever saw you to give his regards." The Nord shook his head with a bark of a laugh. "By Shor! He is small compared to the rest of us, but he gave Tsun the thrashing of a lifetime!"

"Atta boy, Onmund," KaNack snickered as his hands began to crackle with electricity. "To the glory of battle then, Hakon!"

The spirit released a bellowing battle cry as he charged down the wooden platforms to the lower level. Othrelos was more than a little startled to see a barbarian spirit coming right at him with an enormous battleaxe.

"What in Oblivion?!"

The warlock cast up a ward as the battleaxe came crashing down hard, almost causing the protective barrier to crash under its might. KaNack raced to the specter's side and blasted a charge of chain lightning in the Morag Tong leader's direction. The elf snarled as he tried to keep his ward up, not having prepared himself for something as brutish as a spectral barbarian.

"Impossible! Your spirit abandoned you! How could you summon one from the Void?!" Othrelos exclaimed as he kept his ward up with one hand and tried to charge up a fire spell in the other.

"Miserable, weak wizard!" Hakon bellowed as he once again swung his axe at him. "I am no thrall of Sithis! I am a true Nord warrior from Shor's land of the dead! Sovngarde!"

The Dunmer snarled in pain as he felt a volt of electricity shoot into him from behind. Brelyna was still casting from the upper level in the chamber and had an open shot behind his protective ward. The warlock's red eyes narrowed in fury and the flames in his hands began to glow white as his wrath amplified.

"Damn the Brotherhood! Damn the spirits! Damn you ALL!" The Mer cast his ward to the side and his other hand shot forward releasing the powerful incinerate casting directly into the spectral Nord before him. Lowering his barrier left him open and the Dark Elf shrieked in pain as he felt the sharp burn of electricity strike into his shoulder blade.

"HAH! That was but a scratch!" One-Eye barked as he staggered up from the impact of the blast and approached the wizard once more with his weapon. "You think you are ancient, wizard?! I was around during the age of the Dragon War! You are but a mere child to me!"

The Mer red eyes narrowed as his hand began to glow a purplish blue with a Soul Trap spell, his focus was broken when he felt the sharp burning of lightning once again strike into him from behind. "Meddlesome, she-elf!" Othrelos screamed as he turned to charge a ball of lightning of his own in Brelyna's direction.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The warlock was sent flying backwards and smashed violently into the stone walls of the Nordic ruin. He grunted in pain and his eyes widened in shock as he glared over at the spirit and Argonian.

"How did you Shout?! Not enough time has passed!"

"The reptile isn't the only one who knows how to use the mighty Thu'um!" the ghost announced proudly as he stalked towards his stunned prey. "Ages ago, three Nords traveled to the top of High Hrothgar and used their Shouts to bring down the World-Eater Alduin! I was one of them! You are an insect compared to that beast!"

"You've met your match, Othrelos!" KaNack growled as he kept up a ward in case the Mer planned to cast a spell in his direction. "Unlike you, the Dark Brotherhood embraces companions and friendship! As a wise Imperial once told me 'There is no challenge you cannot face, so long as you are with a friend'!"

"What fool fed you that ridiculous nonsense?!" the Dark Elf growled as his hands charged up with another flame spell. "That pathetic Tullius? The old hermit, Arngier?"

"It was a fool, Othrelos," the Argonian answered stiffly. "The Fool of Hearts. As you can clearly see by the position you are in, his wisdom has yet to be proven wrong." The mage's eyes narrowed in hatred. "Did you really think the Morag Tong could just swoop in and obtain all the glory of the Dark Brotherhood by killing us?"

"It seemed to work out rather well for you, Arch Mage," the Mer snickered as he rose to his feet and the fire spell simmered out of his hands. "Once your headmaster died, you just couldn't wait to take his place, could you?" The red eyes of the Dunmer flickered with malice and he pointed at him accusingly. "Were the robes still warm when you slipped them on, Argonian? Or did you allow Savos' body to become cold before you stripped it of all his possessions? How is what I set out to do any different from your accession in the College of Winterhold?"

"You son of a bitch!" the Listener roared as he shot his lightning at Othrelos' head. The Dunmer cast his ward and laughed manically as he released that he was once again getting into the reptile's head.

"We're one and the same, KaNack! At least I am being straightforward with you regarding my objectives!"

"You magic users always talk!" Hakon shouted furiously as he slammed the head of his axe into the stony floor. The loud crack caused both KaNack and the Mer to focus their attention on the spirit of Sovngarde. "This is why true Nordic battles don't take as long as a clash of mages and wizards! We do deeds and don't speak!" The ghost once again grasped the handle of his weapon in a tight grip and stared at the Dunmer menacingly. "Enough words, I don't have much time left on this plane and I will not spend it flapping my gums like some milk-drinker!"

One-Eye released a battle cry that caused the very walks in Silverdrift Lair to tremble from its might before the Nord charged at Othrelos a loud growl still rumbling in his throat. The Morag Tong leader had no choice but to once again cast his ward and was propelled backwards a step in the chamber with every swing of the specter's axe.

"Brelyna! Chain Lightning!" KaNack called out frantically as he rushed forward to catch up with the ghost, charging the attack in his claws. The she-elf raced along the upper level to get a better aim at the Morag Tong leader, preparing a cast of the dangerous spell herself.

In an act of desperation to be rid of the relentless spirit of Shor's realm, Othrelos lowered his ward and cast a fireball into Hakon's chest causing the Nord to stumble back a few steps. That was the exact opportunity that the two mages had been waiting for.

The Dark Elf released a loud screech of pain and the overbearing charge of electricity sent him flying back a good fifty feet before he finally crashed into a limp mess. KaNack panted as he tried to catch his breath; he had poured most of his magicka into the final surge of chain lightning and clearly it had paid off, despite how exhausted it had made him.

"KaNack!"

The Listener turned around and managed a smile as he saw Brelyna racing over to him and warmly accepted her tight embrace. Hakon let out a disappointed snort as he approached the two.

"Bah, I wanted to at least have been able to sever a limb," the Nord grumbled. "You mages take the fun out of a good fight."

"He's down, but he's not dead just yet," the Argonian explained calmly as he pulled away from his wife and unsheathed the Blade of Woe. "It's time to finally bring this horrible nightmare to an end."

"I'd love to stay and savor the moment of victory with you, Dovahkiin," One-Eye muttered as he sheathed his battleaxe and crossed his arms. "My time has run out, however, and I must return to Shor's Hall. It may not be as glorious as the defeat of Alduin, but still this fight will make for a most excellent story to share with the others over a tankard of ale. That mage of yours will be particularly eager to hear all of the details regarding your triumph over his killer."

The Nord grasped KaNack's arm in a tight hold as was the Nordic custom for bidding a friend farewell. "Stand tall, Dovahkiin. The honor will be ours when you rejoin the ranks of Sovngarde; I will look for your return."

The spirit of One-Eye vanished into a white and blue mist as his soul began its journey to its home in the glorious lands of Shor's realm.

"Yeah, at some point I am going to have to summon him back and see if he can have a word with Tsun regarding my entrance to Sovngarde," the reptile grumbled. Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, the Listener and his spouse started to make their way over to the limp and seemingly unconscious form of Othrelos. "Brelyna, watch him closely," he hissed.

The Dark Elf charged up a casting of lightning in her hands as she stayed close to the Dark Brotherhood leader's side. The reptile tensed with every step he took closer to leader of the executioners. He didn't know if the warlock truly was down or not; he had to be on his toes. KaNack paused when he was about three feet away from Othrelos. The Dunmer's eyes were lightly closed and one of his hands was stuck under his body.

"He looks dead to the world," the mage stated as a crooked smile crossed his face. "Let's see if we can't make him look even more so."

It was so sudden; one moment the Mer appeared to be out like a light, the next his hand charged up with a frost casting and a large spear of ice struck into Brelyna striking her a distance away. KaNack had heard her scream in pain and then silence, but he had no time to react to it as the next sensation he felt was something sharp plunging into his abdomen.

The Listener let out a weak grunt of pain as his eyes slowly lowered to find themselves locked with the furious and piercing redness of Othrelos'. The Mer had his glass sword unsheathed and hidden underneath his body; he merely had to bide his time until his prey got close enough to strike.

"Still arrogant," the Mer uttered darkly as he pushed his blade deeper into the reptile, causing KaNack to drop the Blade of Woe and grimace in pain. "You've learned absolutely nothing, despite all you have gone through."

The Morag Tong leader struggled to his feet and forcefully shoved the Listener off his sword and to the stone floor of the ruin. Not wanting to waste time, the Mer rummaged in the Argonian's satchel until he found what he was looking for and pulled out two red potions of restoration. "Ah, there we are. You may not have killed me, but I'm still sore as Oblivion." He smirked down at KaNack who was struggling to get back onto his feet. "I'm sure you don't mind." A sharp kick to the mage's ribs knocked the Dark Brotherhood leader back to the ground. Othrelos rolled his eyes as he began to greedily drink the health potions and was pleased that he found himself feeling once again invigorated and no longer reeling from any linger pain from his encounter.

"Bastard," KaNack hissed up at him as his claws began to glow gold in an attempt to heal himself. "I struck you down once, I can do it again." The mage screamed in pain as Othrelos drove his sword back into him breaking his focus and all hope of a restoration spell.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" the wizard asked nastily before turning back to where Brelyna had landed. "I doubt the ice spear was enough to kill your lovely wife, but it should keep her frozen for some time," he chuckled darkly. "She won't be coming to your aid, lizard."

"You think I'm going to simply lie down and die?!" the Argonian snarled furiously as sparks shot from his claws and into the Mer's wrist that was grasping the hilt of the glass sword. This caused Othrelos to release the weapon, but he struck KaNack back with a lightning spell of his own.

"No, I don't!" the executioner snorted as he knelt down and grasped one of KaNack's horns. "That would take all the enjoyment out of it!" He twisted the mage's head sending a surge of pain down the reptile's spine as the elf once again grabbed the hilt of his blade. "You dismal excuse for an assassin," he hissed down at him. "Did you honestly think that you would have been able to end me so easily? I have hundreds of years of experience on you! How you could possibly have seen this attempt of yours result in anything other than death is beyond me!"

"I'm not dead yet," the Argonian muttered weakly as he stared up at the Dark Elf hatefully. "I'm still alive and by the will of Sithis I will see you dead."

"Will of Sithis," Othrelos sneered. "Again you speak of your petty deity, the Dread Father. You pay tribute to a god who does not care if you live or die! Can you not see he has abandoned you just as your faithful spirit Lachance has?"

"Sithis has not abandoned me," the mage announced proudly. "Even now I can feel his presence deep within my heart and keeping me alive." He snickered wickedly as he grinned up at the frustrated Dunmer. "He keeps me alive with his support and strength. He knows that the Dark Brotherhood is going to kill you."

"You are kept alive because of me!" the Morag Tong leader proclaimed furiously. "Damn it all, I am sick of your pathetic devotion to your false divinity! I want to hear you say it! I want to hear you condemn the name of Sithis!" He was screaming in KaNack's face. "Say it! Say that you denounce the Dread Father!"

The Mer was greeted with a sinister cackle from the wounded assassin. "Stupid and pitiable Othrelos," sighed the Listener as he shook his head in sympathy. "You will never hear me utter those words. I was born a loyal son of Sithis and I shall die one." His white eyes sparked with an inner fire as he gave the executioner a bloody grin.

"Perhaps if you had embraced one of the divine spirits into your heart there would be some merit to your words. There is nothing in your heart but emptiness. You have no love and no faith; you are not alive, you merely exist." The reptile reveled in the furious snarl that was forming on the elf's face. "You have no greater purpose. No precious reward to look forward to in the afterlife." He reached forward and grabbed at the gray hand grasping at his horn, shooting the Dunmer a dark look. "I pity you."

"You pity….ME?!" The executioner slammed the Argonian's head hard into the stone and rose to his feet, pulling the glass sword out with him. Othrelos panted furiously as he paced in front of the mage like a cage animal. "No! NO! I pity YOU!" he insisted angrily. "Damn it all, lizard! I will hear you scorn the name of Sithis! I will make you say those words!"

The Morag Tong leader dropped back to the stone floor and drove his sword deep into the Argonian's thigh causing him to scream out in pain. "Say it! Say you denounce Sithis! Say it and I'll kill you! I'll end your suffering! Revile your deity!"

KaNack's teeth clenched together and the agony kept him being able to focus on any of his spells or casting. He let out a gasp as his throat was clasped tightly by the irate executioner. "I don't care how long it takes," he spat at the Listener venomously. "I am a very creative man, KaNack. I will make you endure a torture that you cannot even begin to fathom. I will not stop until you renounce your devotion to the Dread Father!"

The Dark Brotherhood leader's white eyes burned with defiance as he stared up at Othrelos. The Mer could see that the reptile was in pain, but his spirit was strong.

"Never," the mage choked out angrily. "I am the Listener. I am the loyal son of Sithis. I will never turn my back on Him or the Night Mother." KaNack grasped at the hilt of the Dark Elf's glass sword and drove it further into his own body to emphasize his point. "All hail Sithis," he coughed, spewing a bit of blood on Othrelos's hand. That resulted in his throat being clenched tighter cutting him off from precious air.

"Say it," Othrelos demanded quietly as his body trembled in anger. "I will end your pain if you only just say it."

KaNack gulped for air but his eyes never once left the Mer's or lost their look of determination.

"All hail Sithis," he managed to wheeze out. "Do…your…worst."

"Oh, I plan to," Othrelos promised before once again cracking the reptile's head into the hard unforgiving stone floor.

If the reptile was willing to suffer, Othrelos was more than happy oblige. One way or another, he was going to get the Dark Brotherhood leader to condemn the name of the Dread Father.


	26. The New Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood

"Again!" Lachance demanded as he braced himself with his dagger for his oncoming pupil. The Imperial lunged at him and there was a rhythmic clanking of steel on steel as the Speaker blocked the thrall's strikes. "Good, now see if you can actually make contact with my flesh this time."

Finn spun on his heels to give his swing more momentum and the sword flew through the air causing the Speaker to dance backwards and strike the weapon down with his blade. Finn was relentless as he sprang forward and slashed at his tutor in an attempt to hit him. Neither was concerned for injury as there was no pain in the Void. The Penitus Oculatus agent reached forward with his free hand and grabbed the hood of Lucien's cloak and pulled it over his head. With his target temporarily blinded, Finn crashed the hilt of his sword into the Spectral Assassin's wrist causing him to drop his weapon.

"Hah!" the Imperial laughed as he held his blade to his tutor's throat. Lachance had a tired look in his eyes as he pulled his hood back and stared at the Imperial before him. "There are no rules in the world of assassins, Lachance! Didn't you tell me that?"

"Yes, I did," he answered. "I also told you to strike me down." Clasping his fists together, the Speaker shot them up and knocked the sword up and away from his throat. With Finn distracted from the impact, Lucien snatched his blade from the ground and pounced forward at his target. Snaking one arm around the thrall's neck, he placed his blade so that the tip was resting just above where the boy's heart would have been. "That was the same mistake that your former companion, Salvarus, made with me."

The Speaker released his victim and sheathed his dagger before continuing to lecture his student. "Don't allow confidence to blind you to what needs to be done. You might think that you have the upper hand, but it is not a risk worth taking when facing an enemy."

"Right, I think I understand what you're getting at, Lachance. I can't get cocky in the midst of battle," Finn muttered as he sheathed his sword as well, slightly disappointed that he had yet to manage to strike his instructor even once in all of their training.

Both of the men stirred as they sensed a familiar aura around them. With the sense of humiliation becoming prominent, the Imperial was well aware of who was approaching them. Lucien let out a sigh as he once again took a knee with his student in greeting the Unholy Matron.

The Night Mother took her time as she approached the two thralls of the Void. As the Mer got closer, Lachance could not help but notice that she had a sinister sparkle in her red eyes.

"My lady," the Speaker started quietly as he kept his head low, "I had not expected to be graced by your presence so soon after our last encounter. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

The Dunmer's smile broadened as she rested her hands on her hips and gestured for the assassin to follow her with a slight tilt of her head. "Come with me, Lucien. I have something I wish to share with you."

Being nothing more than a mere thrall now, the Speaker was quick to rise to his feet and follow after the Dark Elf without question. Under the influence of the elf's aura, he felt a great sense of confusion. The assassin had assumed that once he had given up his position as the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood, the Night Mother and Sithis would no longer have any reason to seek him out. What could the woman possibly want with him now that he was just another one of the wandering souls?

The Unholy Matron led the spirit to a secluded area of the black mountainous region of the Void where there was a small cave opening. She did not speak a word to him, but beckoned him to enter the mouth of the cavern with a simple curl of her finger. As soon as they entered, the Mer performed a casting of magelight, illuminated the shadowy chamber and filling it with a bright radiance. Lachance winced as his eyes were forced to adapt to the sudden change in light.

"Everything is being put into motion as we speak, Lucien," the Night Mother said softly as she took a seat on a large black boulder and beamed at him lovingly. "My husband felt it necessary for me to share all the glorious details with you."

"Details, my lady?" the man asked as he walked over to her, his confusion not lessening in the slightest.

"Yes. You see, soon the two of us are going to be graced by the presence of the new Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood." The Unholy Matron chuckled lightly as she patted the rock she was sitting on to ask the Speaker to join her.

"Of course, the new spirit," Lachance stated quietly as he obediently sat down next to the Dark Elf. He hated the fact that he felt a twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach; giving up his title was a terribly blow to his pride, but the ghoul felt it was something he had to do to prevent the Listener from hurting himself trying to protect him. "I am eager to meet whoever it is. I am sure it will be someone who will serve the Listener well in his endeavors."

The Mer could not help but giggle as she shook her head at the thrall. "You are partially right. He will serve a Listener well." Her eyes lifted up towards the roof of the cave they were in and a wicked smile formed on her face. "Ah, Sithis has just informed me that the trial has begun."

"Trial?" asked the Speaker, his body tensing up at the news. "What trial are you speaking of, my lady?"

"Dearest Lucien," she sang sweetly as she gave him a mocking look of sympathy, "have you really not guessed yet?" The Night Mother stood up from the rock and strode to the center of the cave, never allowing her eyes to leave the spirit's. "You were chosen to represent the Dark Brotherhood because of your unwillingness to denounce Sithis' name, even when it seemed that He had forsaken you. The Dark Brotherhood spirit must embrace the Old Ways, respect our customs and never allow his devotion to waver."

"I can think of many thralls here would be worthy candidates," Lachance insisted as he crossed his arms and was more than a little frustrated. He could tell that the Night Mother was dancing around the issue. "One would be the wizard, Festus Krex. The Listener was very attached to him and he believed in the importance of tradition."

"Festus is a good man, but he accepted the ways of that petty female Nord," the Unholy Matron hissed as she shot the Speaker a dark look. Her expression melted back into one of more mischievous nature as she calmed herself and focused on the matter at hand. "Think really hard, Lachance. Is there no one else you can think of whose faith could rival that of your own?"

The thrall's brow furrowed as he thought over the many different souls he had encountered over the centuries. Many had faith in the Dread Father; they would not be residing in the more peaceful division of the Void if they did not. Lucien's eyes widened in shock as a very obvious person came to mind.

"The Listener?" he gasped out.

"Ah, you finally figured out who your replacement is I see," the Night Mother stated as a twisted smile crept up her face. "Yes, he is one of our most dedicated servants."

"He can't be the new spirit! He's not dead!" the man barked angrily, his emotions getting the better of him by the presence of the Mer's aura.

"Yet," was the simple cold reply.

"Yet? You plan on the boy dying?!" the spirit snarled as he rose from his seat and rushed towards her, his brown eyes burning with frustration and fear. "He won't fall! The Dark Brotherhood will be there to aid him!"

"You think Sithis has not planned everything accordingly, Lachance?" the she-elf asked him before poking a bony finger into his chest. "The moment you demanded to be released from your responsibility, He went to work setting everything in motion for the Argonian's final test of dedication."

"I relinquished my title to keep him safe!" the spirit barked at her. "There has to be someone else who could take his place!"

"How could you not see this coming?" the Night Mother snorted as she began to circle the frantic Speaker. "You spent years molding that reptile into your own image! Teaching him everything you knew! Instructing him on the Black Hand and Dark Brotherhood's history! Pounding into his head the importance of never allowing his faith to wane!" She leaned forward so her lips were to his ear. "You turned him into you, Lucien Lachance. Who better to replace you than yourself?"

The Speaker's teeth clenched tightly as a haunting sense of guilt began to overtake his fury. "Your own Listener?" he growled out darkly as he turned to glare at her. "You are willing to allow the Listener to die?"

"Who am I to become attached to those who I deem worthy of hearing my voice?" the Night Mother asked unemotionally as she shrugged her bony shoulders. "There have been many Listeners in the past and I have not shed any tears over their passing." She gave the thrall a thoughtful look. "I have already decided upon the Argonian's successor." The Mer rested her hand against her cheek and tapped her index finger, a smirk crossing her lips. "The Dunmer archer will be the next to hear my voice. Is it not ironic that the next Listener has only one ear?"

"Vytalas? It's not his time yet to lead the Dark Brotherhood!" the thrall exclaimed as his hands tightened into fists. He desperately wanted to attack something, but knew better than to strike the Dark Elf before him.

"It does not matter what you think, Lachance. Even now, the child is being judged by the Dread Father to see if he is indeed truly worthy of being the Dark Brotherhood spirit." She reached forward, grasped the Speaker by the shoulders and began to push him back towards the large black rocks. "Sit down and behave yourself, thrall," she ordered as she forced the man to sit. "Sithis is sharing with me all the intimate details and I don't want you to miss a minute of it."

A growl rumbled in Lucien's throat as he glowered at the Mer before him. "So, He arranged all this? He set KaNack up to walk into a deathtrap?"

"You make it sound so callous," the Unholy Matron remarked as she gave him a disappointed look. "The child should be honored to be handpicked by the Dread Father to represent the entire guild as a whole. All he needs to do is prove himself the way you did."

"I did?!" the spirit exclaimed in horror as he sat up straight and his eyes widened in disbelief. "You don't mean..?!"

"His own Applewatch, yes," the Dunmer confirmed as she began to pace in front of the mortified specter. "How does it feel, Lachance? Knowing that very thing you had hoped to protect him from has been brought upon by your leaving?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Lucien howled at her. "I left to keep him from harm!"

"Keep him from harm?" the Mer spat at him venomously. "You've always protected the Listener and saved his life on multiple occasions! What did you THINK was going to happen once you were no longer there for him?" She rolled her red eyes and shook her head dismissively. "If the Dread Father had not arranged it, KaNack would eventually have fallen on his own because you would not have been there as his guardian."

The Dark Elf's head suddenly turned to the side as thought she was being spoken to by another. "I see," she muttered before glancing back at the Speaker. "You should be so proud, Lachance. The Listener even uttered the same words you did before the Black Hand began their torture in the farmhouse. You prepared him to be so brave."

"I can't let this happen," Lucien insisted as he grasped his long brown hair in tight fists. "He's too young. It's not his time yet." He stared at the Mer in desperation. "Please, Sithis must choose somebody else!"

"He does not have to do anything!" the Night Mother shouted towards the thrall. "He is your deity and you will not question His judgment!" A grimace came over her face as the Dread Father spoke to her once more. "Hmm, multiple stabbings in the abdomen," she commented in disinterest. "Nothing too impressive so far. I suppose the sorcerer is merely warming up." A grin crossed her face as she reveled in the terror in the Speaker's eyes. "After all, it's Sithis who is whispering the suggestions into the Morag Tong imposter's ear. How else is he to properly know how to mirror the horrors of Applewatch?"

"You're torturing him for nothing more than cruel amusement!" Lachance screamed at her furiously. "Why are you telling me all this?!"

"Did you truly think that you would not be punished for throwing away your title so carelessly?!" the Mer snarled at the thrall nastily. "You and your damn pride, Lucien! Giving away such a respected position was a blatant dishonor towards Sithis! You are going to listen to the boy's torture because this is how the Dread Father has deemed fit to make you suffer for your insolence!"

The Speaker growled low in his throat as he stared at the floor of the cave in both fury and remorse. The Listener's torment had been brought forth because of him. KaNack was going to endure horrible agony because of him. He was going to die because of him.

"And there goes his cracked horn," the Unholy Matron remarked with a shake of her head. "Well, the Argonian's head could only be smashed into the stone floor so many times before it got broken off." She leered over at the distraught thrall. "I wonder if that was to represent the bones they broke during your beating, Speaker."

"Are there at least others there?" the spirit groaned, not able to tear his eyes from the floor. "Is there at least one friendly face that he is aware of to give him some form of comfort?"

"His wife is there, but he cannot see or sense her," the Night Mother answered as she continued to keep her focus on the words being spoken to her by her husband.

Lachance rose from the rock and approached her in desperation. "NO! It can't end for him like this! He can't die alone!"

"He's not alone," the Mer insisted as she reached forward to brush a few long strands of hair from the Speaker's face. "He has his killer to keep him company."

"He's alone and he's scared!" He grasped the Mer's hands trying to get some form of compassion from her. "We can't let him die afraid!"

"Yes," she agreed calmly with a nod of her head. "He's terrified, but he is covering it up well. Othrelos has no idea just how frightened the Listener really is. He is going to die alone though, Lachance; just as you did."

She then clasped a hand to her mouth to hide the smirk on her face as she received an update on the Listener's condition. "Oh my, that sorcerer just ripped the feathers from his head," she stated as she pulled away from the mortified spirit. "Plucked like a chicken being prepared for the slaughter. You remember being scalped, don't you, dear Lucien?"

Lachance felt ill to his stomach upon hearing what cruel fate had befallen on the young Argonian that he had been watching over for the last decade. He could hardly form an image of KaNack without the crown of crimson feathers that lined the top of his head. He shuddered at the touch of the Mer's hand on his back.

"I do hope this doesn't affect his appearance any once he becomes the Dark Brotherhood spirit." A sneer crossed her face and she put her lips to the Speaker's ear. "Then again, you turned out fairly well in the end, didn't you, Lachance?"

The spirit pulled away from her, his entire body quaked. Both the memories of Applewatch and the realization that the Listener was befalling the same fate were causing him unbearable pain.

"Oh, bless the child's heart. He's begging the warlock for more!" the Dark Elf laughed as she took a seat on one of the nearby rocks. "The Listener is a true son of Sithis. He might be an even greater representative than you ever were, Speaker!"

"You've proven your point!" Lachance screamed at her furiously, no longer able to hold back his despair and frustration. "How can you be so cruel?! That Argonian has been devoted to you! Why are you and the Dread Father torturing him when I am the one who has sinned?!"

"What better way to make you suffer than by making your worst fears become a reality?" the Night Mother explained coolly. "Do not take your aggravation out on me. Sithis is the one who decided on your replacement as well as your punishment."

"It's not fair to KaNack! He still has a long life ahead of him! He has a wife! He has a family! You are rewarding his commitment by making him suffer through this scared and by himself!"

"I wonder how the Dread Father plans on having the warlock feed on his flesh," the Unholy Matron commented, ignoring the Speaker's pleads. "We cannot have a proper representation without that, now can we?"

Lucien stormed over to her and grasped her firmly by the shoulders. His brown eyes burning into the redness of the elf's.

"Send me back," he demanded in a hushed voice.

"Excuse me?" the Mer growled at him in a dangerous tone, not at all pleased with Lachance's sudden gall and disrespectful approach.

"I made a mistake!" he exclaimed. "Reconnect me to the Listener! There is still time! I can help him!" His grip tightened on the Dark Elf's as his eyes brimmed with tears of desperation. "Let me go to him!"

The entire cave rumbled as Sithis was not pleased that the Speaker had put his hands on his wife. Not fazed by the tremor, the Night Mother shoved the specter away and glared at him in ferocity.

"Who are you to ask anything of me?" she spat at him. "You made your choice, thrall! You decided to abandon the Listener because your dignity had been given a severe blow! You are a petty man and are not worthy of any favor!"

"I was wrong!" he persisted. "I can't allow KaNack to die because of my selfishness! I will do anything you ask, just let me return to him!"

"It won't make a difference," she explained in a much calmer tone. "As the reptile's blood spills, it is slowly being used to attach his soul to the Dark Brotherhood spirit's scroll. Soon the new leader will have a Spectral Mage to conjure by his side." Her eyes narrowed. "Hopefully KaNack will not abandon his casters due to his arrogance like you did." She shook her head at him. "No, loyalty is much more important to him than it ever was to you, Lachance. He'd never desert the one who summons him."

Lachance felt to his knees and held his head low as tears began to crawl down his face. "You and the Dread Father have the ability. I am BEGGING you! Please, let me go back! Let me return to my caster!"

The Night Mother could not hold back her amusement as the sight of the pitiful creature before her. "What's this?" she asked in delight. "The prideful Lucien Lachance is begging like some mangy dog?" She knelt down and gently stroked back his long brown hair. "Oh, dearest Lucien. Too little too late," she insisted softly.

"Please," Lachance cried quietly. "He's like a son to me."

"Now who is the one weak due to his emotions?" the Unholy Matron muttered before cupping Lachance's face in her hands and tilted his head up. The Speaker could not hold back his tears and the Mer grimaced at the sight of just how far the thrall had fallen.

"It's all been arranged, Speaker. Othrelos will kill the Listener. Vytalas will appear having followed their tracks and then strike the sorcerer down with one of his poisoned arrows. This is the fate that Sithis has decided upon for the Dark Brotherhood. You've said yourself that the Dark Elf would make a strong leader, he will ensure that the family survives."

"You may think that it is too late, but I cannot just sit back and allow this cruelty to continue. I may not be able to save his life, but I can at least keep him from dying alone." He reached up towards the Unholy Matron. "I beseech you and the Dread Father; I will suffer with the traitors and villains in the Void! I will allow my soul to be crumbled into a pile of dust! Please, let me return to the Argonian! I cannot hear his pleads, but I know he is calling for me!"

"Even if we did send you back," the she-elf started quietly, "the Argonian has been mutilated and wounded too greatly. With no healing or restoration abilities, there is nothing you could do to help him."

"I promised him I would never allow him to die alone," Lachance choked out, not willing to give up his pleading. "Can you not grant me but a moment to give him some glimmer of comfort through the horror and agony?"

"You should not have made a promise that you were unwilling to keep." The two stirred as once again the cavern rumbled with the presence of the Dread Father. The Night Mother stared up at the ceiling in surprise. "My love? Please tell me you are not changing your mind about everything?" she asked in disbelief. There was another small tremor which caused the Dunmer to grimace. "I see. I don't know what you see in him, but I will not question you."

The Dark Elf glared at Lachance as she pulled the trembling man to his feet. "I guess your pitiful groveling and swallowing of pride has surprised even my husband. You really care for that young Argonian, don't you?" She let out a frustrated huff as she turned her head away from the Speaker. "Sithis has decided to reconnect your bond with the Listener."

"Oh, bless Him!" Lachance gasped out as he felt a great sense of relief come over him.

"BUT!" she started angrily, grabbing the spirit's attention. "You are not returning as the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood. You have been stripped of that title, Lachance." The Night Mother crossed her arms and began to pace before the confused thrall. "The Dread Father is allowing you to be connected to the Argonian, but merely as the child's conjuration. His familiar!" She pointed a grey skeletal finger at him. "In other words, you will be nothing more than the PET that many have called you so scornfully!" The Unholy Matron's eyes narrowed as she gazed upon the specter scornfully. "Do you understand, dear Lucien? You will lose all the respect and dignity and become nothing more than a faithful hound."

The Spectral Assassin shook his head in frustration. Every moment delayed was another second that the Listener was being tortured. "I will endure whatever title you see fit to label me with. You wish to consider me a dog, then so be it."

"Really?" the she-elf asked as she gave him a doubtful look. "Are you willing to bark, Lachance?"

The Speaker's jaw clenched as he gave the she-elf a disturbed and stony look at the disgraceful request. "I'm sorry, my lady?"

"Come now, thrall. Let's see just how dedicated you are to resuming your role as the Argonian's protector," she said, her red eyes twinkling with malice. "Give us a little bark."

The specter was a proud man and for years despised being considered anything less than an equal. The request of Sithis' wife was nothing more than another opportunity for him to pay for his insolence. His body stiffened and he took in a deep breath and had to look away from the Unholy Matron before he could allow himself to lose what little pride he had left for himself.

"Woof," he uttered shamefully.

Lucien gritted his teeth as he heard the Dunmer's satisfied chuckling fill the small cavern. The Mer's face was fixed in an expression of great amusement, a smirk crossing her dark lips. "Oh, bark again, Lachance," she snickered. "It's very becoming of you."

"I will do so if you ask it of me, my lady," the Speaker answered with difficulty. "If it means I can return to the Listener."

"Is the taste of humility bitter, thrall?" She shook her head, more than satisfied with her last little jab at the Speaker's dignity "I think you've embarrassed yourself enough, don't you?" the Unholy Matron insisted as she resumed her pacing. "Now, it is time for you to understand the stipulations of your return," the Dunmer began. "So long as the Listener is alive, he will always be able to summon you. The Argonian is still going to be the soul chosen to become the new Dark Brotherhood spirit."

"So, as long as I keep him alive, there is no spirit to represent us then?" Lucien asked quietly as he became restless to return to his caster before it was too late.

"Correct. The moment he dies, he will take on this honorable title and you will spend the rest of your days in the Void. Only the Argonian has the power to summon you, and with his death your time will truly come to an end."

"Well then, I best not let him die, my lady," the Spectral Assassin stated as he bowed politely to her. "Return me to the Listener. Whether he lives for another two hundred years or two minutes, I WILL be there for him!"

"Good luck, you passionate fool," the Night Mother muttered as the thrall before her began to slowly vanish before her eyes. The Dark Elf let out a sigh and stared back up at the ceiling of the cavern. "The child has no hope of surviving his injuries unless that wife of his recovers from her blow in time. Does the Argonian really have a chance even with Lachance's return?"

The entire cavern rumbled and a smirk crawled up the Mer's face.

"Yes, of course. I will have to wait and see. Telling me would spoil all the fun, wouldn't it, my love?"


	27. His Own Applewatch

To say that Othrelos was frustrated would be an understatement.

He had been impressed with how easily the different methods of sadistic torture seemed to come to him. The Mer had barely completed inflicting pain on the relentless Argonian before suddenly a new idea would come to mind.

When stabbing did not seem to be enough, the Morag Tong began to repeatedly slam the Listener's head into the unforgiving stone floor to the point where his cracked horn snapped off. Othrelos reveled in the piercing scream from the assassin as his victim writhed in pain.

"The Dark Brotherhood has a one eared elf and now an Argonian with only a single horn! If there is one thing that I can appreciate its symmetry!" He knelt down beside the red and crimson reptile. "What say you, KaNack? Are you ready to say the words?"

KaNack shot the warlock a fierce look and spat out a mouthful of blood. "You call this torture?" he growled. "I've endured worse at the hands of Festus Krex! You're pathetic, Othrelos! Can you not cause me worse pain than my own mentor? Why are you holding back?"

The wizard grimaced at the Dark Brotherhood leader's reluctance to accept the obvious fact that his deity had abandoned him. A dark voice then seemed to speak in his head, suggesting another way to in which to worsen the mage's agony.

"Well, you've already lost your horn," the Dark Elf muttered as he grabbed a handful of KaNack's crimson feathers, "I wonder, how ridiculous would you look if you lost your hair as well?" Othrelos put all his strength into the motion as he ripped the follicles violently from the Argonian's head.

The shriek of agony was music to the Morag Tong leader's ears; so much so that he grasped a remaining clump of feathers and tore them from KaNack's head as well. The caster looked like a shell of his former self. There was a jagged stump where one of his impressive horns had once adorned his cranium proudly. His scalp was blood-spattered and bare save for a few mangled feathers that still managed to remain attached to his head. The black mage shrouds the reptile was wearing were shredded and dampened with blood from the many different punctures brought forth by the sorcerer.

Deep within, the Listener was in horrible pain and even worse, he was scared. He would not give Othrelos the satisfaction of knowing just how frightened that he was at the realization that he was by himself and there was no one coming to his aid. Just like in Solitude ten years ago, the mage found himself once again facing death. This time, however, he knew that no matter how much he called for him, Lucien was not coming. He was going to die alone, but Othrelos would not see him show any fear or hear him denounce the name of Sithis.

"You look absurd," the warlock sneered down at the assassin and he tossed the handful of red feathers onto the Argonian; the blood staining his face caused a few of the red follicles to actually stick to the mage's face. "Your deity had deserted you, KaNack. Where is this wrath of Sithis that you always claim that I am doomed to face?" He took a knee and smacked the caster hard on the side of his cranium. "Where is your god now when you need him the most?"

"Othrelos, why are you insisting on babying me?" the Listener asked as a twisted smile formed on his face causing the sorcerer's blood to boil. "Do you think I cannot take it? My beloved jester has plucked feathers from my brow. Is this really the best you can do?" He reached up and grabbed a handful of the Mer's shrouds. "I'm imploring you, elf," he snickered, "do something that that might actually impress me. If this is all the Morag Tong is capable of, I am not at all surprised that your guild fell apart."

"You insolent scaled bastard!" Othrelos snarled as he rose to his feet making the reptile lose his grip on his shrouds. "You want more pain? I will grant your request!" He grabbed the Argonian by his remaining horn and proceeded to drag his broken and mangled body towards one of the large wooden scaffolds in the chamber. The Morag Tong leader strained as he pulled the reptile to his feet and slammed his back hard into the wooden structure. "Can you stand, KaNack?" he growled darkly.

"You broke one of my legs, warlock," the mage chuckled as he continued to leer at the infuriated executioner. "Otherwise I'd be more than happy to oblige."

The Dunmer grabbed a large portion of the Listener's cloak and cast a spear of ice into it, lodging the fabric into place. Othrelos took a step back and could not help but smirk in satisfaction at the sight of the Dark Brotherhood leader hanging from the wooden structure by his dark garments.

"That should keep you in place," the Dark Elf grumbled as he once again approached the mage and took his chin in a forceful grip. "Tell me, Argonian. Do you still wish for more pain rather than merciful release?"

"I've asked you to do you worst and yet you hold back," KaNack choked out. "I can't help but think that you are stalling." The mage's white eyes twinkled with life despite the fact that his body was slowly dying. "All hail Sithis," he stated with sinister glee. "I will say it again! All hail Sithis!"

"I would cut the tongue from your mouth! But I want to hear you scorn Him!" the warlock screamed at him furiously as his hands shot forward and his clawed fingers dug into one of the lesions in the caster's abdomen producing another blood curdling scream. Maddened by both frustration and the damned voices that kept whispering suggestions in his head, the sorcerer drew back and licked the blood from his hands as he glared menacingly at the disfigure creature before him. He had twisted KaNack's insides with his strike; the agony must have been unfathomable. The Argonian released shallow and ragged breaths as his blood loss seemed to grow worse by the minute. The Listener would not last much longer at the rate he was going.

"Did you know," the warlock growled quietly as he prowled back towards his pinned victim, "that our Mer cousins, the Altmers, once fed on the flesh of their enemies centuries ago?" He chuckled darkly as he tilted his head to be able to look into the pale eyes of the caster. "Their ancestors believed that by consuming their foes that they would somehow inherit their life-force and that was why they lived to be so long. It was all nonsense, of course, and eventually the High Elves gave up the practice and became the pristine and haughty beings that they are today." He bore his teeth at the assassin ferociously in a frightening grin. "Still though…They might have been onto something. I am curious, KaNack, what exactly do Argonians taste like? You were covered in feathers, do you taste of chicken?"

KaNack heart sank and tried to hide the horror that bringing him close to tears at the Dunmer's threat. He knew Brelyna was nearby, but he had not seen or heard her since she was struck by the ice spike. The other family members were busy with their own assault on the executioners.

"I see now where Dinya gets it from," KaNack hissed darkly as he looked away from the ravenous stare of the Dunmer. "You're as insane as she is. You've gone mad, Othrelos."

"I'm just embracing my primeval nature," the warlock uttered with malice. "Do you think that you swamp dwellers did not practice cannibalism as some point in your history?" The sorcerer shook his head and decided to give KaNack one final opportunity to avoid further torture.

"There is still time for you to be granted a painless demise, Argonian," the Mer hissed as his red eyes grew wide with eagerness and hunger. "Do you really wish to be alive for this? Accept the reality that Sithis does not care about your existence. By Oblivion, perhaps He does not even exist at all! Are you really willing to suffer for nothing? I assure you, my bite will not be kind." He leaned forward to rasp in the mage's ear. "Renounce your god and be granted a compassionate end to your agony."

The Listener was helpless and at the mercy of an ancient wizard who was slowly going insane because of the reptile's unwillingness to break. The assassin knew he was alone and was going to die alone, but he would not allow his faith in Sithis to falter.

"I have faced many monsters before, Othrelos. Some in the form of those I believed I could trust. You are no more intimidating than they were," he growled out as he looked at him furiously. "Go ahead and feed on my carcass! I hope you choke on it!"

"Defiant to the bitter end?" the Dark Elf murmured as he grasped the mage firmly by the shoulders. "Very well. It won't be easy puncturing those scales of yours, but I am willing to try."

KaNack cried out in pain as he felt the teeth of Othrelos sink into an area between his throat and sternum that was not as heavily protected by scales as other parts on his body. It wasn't until the sorcerer tore at him that the mage finally lost all ability to hide his fear. The pain and blood loss remove the cloak of bravery and now the Dark Elf could see pure unbridled terror in the caster's eyes, and that pleased him to no end.

"Ah! NOW you are afraid!" he laughed, spitting out a bit of gore in the process. "There's the scared little boy I knew was hiding in there!" He grasped the Listener's horn and stared at him intently. "Any final words before I continue my feast, child?"

"All…hail…Sithis," he managed to choke out in a fragile and broken voice. The Mer's smile turned into a snarl as he pulled the reptile's head back preparing to bite down into the jugular. A blinding slash of pain suddenly came over the sorcerer's side and the Morag Tong leader released his grip on his victim and staggered back a few steps.

"What?!" His red eyes darted about madly as he saw no sign of any attacker in the vicinity. Upon closer inspection, the Dunmer saw a large cut going across his pelvis. "Who is out there?!" he roared as he wiped the blood from his mouth. His question was answered by a stabbing sensation in his back. The warlock howled in pain and then his body erupted into flames, causing whatever was stabbing him to back off.

"Invisibility potion, eh?!" he screamed as his hands lit up in flames to go along with his fire cloak. "That will make no difference! Eventually I will hit you!" Maddened by anger and pain, Othrelos began to fire to fire indiscriminately around the chamber in a desperate attempt to hit whoever had dared to assault him in the midst of finishing off the Dark Brotherhood leader.

"Is that you, you Dunmer witch?!" the Dark Elf barked as his cloak simmered away and he brought his casting to a halt. "Think you can hold me off long enough to heal your husband? I won't let you near him! He is going to bleed to death as a battered and broken man! I've won!" he announced proudly. "He's going to die and there will be no more Listener! No more messages from the bloody Night Mother! No more followers of Sithis! The Morag Tong is going to survive and I will see to it that every last one of you pathetic assassins is wiped out! I'll…!"

The Mer grunted as he felt something charge into him and tackle him hard onto the stone floor of the ruin and the back of his skull cracked hard into the rock dazing him. As his eyes started to focus, the elf was startled to see the Blade of Woe hovering above him. With all of the adrenalin spent in tackling him, a potion would have worn off by now revealing his attacker. His confusion was changed to shock as a form slowly began to materialize before him.

"What in Oblivion?" the wizard muttered, still too stunned from the blow to his head to be able to properly focus on any of his casting. Soon he was staring up into a face that was fixed in an expression of pure revulsion and unbridled hatred. The eyes were free of any color, but were narrowed in such a way that the possessor would have set the Mer alight if he had had possessed the ability. Othrelos gasped as he recognized the form that had him pinned to the ground. "What?! You?! How?!"

"I…live….AGAIN!"

Lachance plunged the poisoned Blade of Woe deep into the chest of the Sorcerer and rolled off, barely avoiding a final casting of fire from the infuriated Morag Tong leader. Othrelos began to scream and froth at the mouth as he tried to fight off the deadly poisons working their way through his body. The red eyes locked with Lucien's as they stared menacingly at one another.

"Sithis has a message for you, Othrelos," the Spectral Assassin growled darkly at him. "Do you believe in His existence now?"

The Dunmer let out a guttural snarl before he collapsed to the floor in a convulsing mess before finally becoming still. Not satisfied just yet, the spirit crawled forward and grasped the warlock's head and with a fierce twist was rewarded with the gratifying sound of a neck snapping. The specter wanted to make damn sure that the elf was dead before he focused on anything else.

Lucien had materialized in the ruin just as the warlock had been preparing to bite into the Argonian a second time. Visions of Arquen had filled the spirit's head at the sight before him and that sent the Speaker into a blind rage. His body was still trying to materialize into a visible form when he had attacked Othrelos which kept him from falling victim to one of the sorcerer's fire casts. By the time his body finally was able to been seen by the mortals of Tamriel's plane, it was already too late for the Morag Tong imposter to do anything.

Lachance staggered to his feet and glowered down at the body of his victim angrily. "That is the last time you will EVER hurt a member of my family, wretch," he hissed down at him. Turning around, the ghost was almost brought to his knees at the hideous sight before him.

The Night Mother had described to him what the Listener was being put through, but he had no real notion on just how gruesome the sight was until he witnessed it with his own eyes. He was not as far-gone as the Speaker had been in Applewatch, but it was close enough to make the spirit feel a sickening sense of familiarity.

The horn that had been cracked when the Argonian learned a lesson in respect was now gone and his proud head of feathers had been replaced with small mangled clumps of tacky follicles. Blood was gradually pouring from the lacerations that seemed to decorate the caster's entire body. The worst of all was the ghastly bite that the Listener had received due to Sithis' influence over the vile Dunmer.

The mage had been hung, just as Lachance had been in the farmhouse. KaNack was hanging from his shrouds limply by a single ice spear; anyone else would have assumed he was dead; since he had not been returned to the Void, Lucien knew he wasn't too late.

"KaNack!" The ghostly assassin flew over to the Argonian and broke the spear with a single smash from his spectral dagger, catching the mage with his other arm before he fell to the floor. "By Sithis, what have I done?" he gasped, gently laying the reptile on the ground.

"Lucien?" the Dark Brotherhood leader's eyes opened as the familiar voice of his spiritual guardian. He could just barely make out a faint blue blur before him. "Lucien, is that you?"

Lachance was relieved to hear the reptile speaking, but knew that he did not have time to waste. The Speaker needed to find Brelyna and bring her to the mage in order for his wounds to be healed. The specter rose from the floor and looked about the cavern for the she-elf but saw no sign of her.

"I'm going to get you help, just hold on." The Spectral Assassin had barely gone fives steps before he heard a frightened and pitiful voice cry out to him.

"Buddy, don't go!" The spirit's teeth clenched and his heart ached as he slowly turned back to KaNack and saw the pure unbridled fear in his eyes. "Please," the reptile continued, "I'm scared."

If the Dunmer was still under the effects of Othrelos' spell, the assassin might not live long enough for Lucien to revive her, leaving the mage to die alone

"Brelyna! Brelyna!" the Spectral Assassin called out in desperation, hoping that the healer was close enough to notice of him and come running. He did not hear the she-elf's voice or even any evidence that she was even conscious. The ghost turned to the Listener in desperation. "You need healing," he insisted. "I cannot help you; let me bring your wife to you."

"Look at me, I am beyond all repair," the reptile muttered quietly with a weak shake of his head. "I don't want to be alone," KaNack whimpered as he reached out to the Spectral Assassin.

Lachance had never felt such a rush or remorse or guilt overcome him since he had given his Silencer the orders to kill the family of Cheydinhal. The Argonian had endured all this pain because of him and was now dying. He could not be so cruel as to once again abandon his Listener after leaving him to go through so much torture and brutality.

Lucien returned to the mage's side and settled next to him. He wrapped a spectral arm around the trembling assassin's body and rested his head on his shoulder in a comforting embrace.

"I'm here," he whispered into KaNack's ear trying to keep his voice from breaking. "Don't be afraid."

He had to be strong for the Dark Brotherhood leader. Gone was the strong and fearless man that Lucien had trained the Listener to be; now all he could see was the frightened and fragile creature he had assisted in the pouring rains of Whiterun during Gaius Maro's assassination.

"Promise you won't leave until it's over," KaNack choked out. Lachance could feel that the Argonian was no longer trembling, but did not know if that was due to his presence or because the assassin's body was dying.

"I'm not going anywhere, child," the Spectral Assassin assured his caster, somehow mustering up his deep and soothing voice that he knew the assassin needed to hear. "I promise."

"I did it," the Listener stated quietly as he allowed his eyes to shut and a sad smile formed on his face, relieved to be once again in the presence of his spiritual guide. "Not once did I lose my faith. I was true to the Dread Father to the very end. I am a true son of Sithis, just like you."

"Yes, you proved your merit, child," Lucien assured the caster. "You've made me so very proud."

The blood loss caused the mage to slowly slip into a peaceful slumber, comforted by the loving embrace of the Spectral Assassin. As time passed, Lachance could already feel the powers keeping him attached to the mortal plane beginning to waver. Soon the Speaker's soul would be return to the Void along with the Listener's, leaving Vytalas to become the new leader of the family.

Lucien knew that the Dunmer was going to be fine; KaNack was dependable and much stronger than most had given him credit for. He would represent and guide the future assassins and leaders of the Dark Brotherhood better than the Speaker ever could have hoped to. Unlike Lachance, KaNack took loyalty to heart and would never allow anything as petty as pride blind him to what was truly important: Family and devotion to the Brotherhood.

"Brelyna, are you alright?"

The Spectral Assassin's head perked up as he recognized the voice echoing in the chamber. It was the Dark Brotherhood's archer. Vytalas had arrived in the chamber, just as the Night Mother said he was going to. Of course, Othrelos was already dead, so he would not be shooting any of his poisoned arrows.

"KaNack! We have to help KaNack!"

The other voice was Brelyna; the one eared Dunmer must have helped revive her when he appeared in Silverdrift Lair.

"Over here!" the spirit called out, not willing to leave his caster's side for even a moment. The Argonian was still alive, but just barely. The two elves came running from around a fallen stone structure and were more than a little aghast at the sight of the mangled reptile before them.

"By Julianos, no!" Brelyna felt to her knees before the Listener, not at all concerned that she was now kneeling in a pool of her husband's blood. "KaNack!" The anguished Mer placed her hands onto the assassin's side and her hands began to glow a bright golden color as she began to cast her restoration spell.

Lachance had seen someone revived from the brink of death once before. The Listener had spared Cicero from bleeding out back when Astrid was still leading the Dark Brotherhood. KaNack's wounds were much worse and he was much farther gone than the Keeper had been though; the odds of Brelyna being able to save him were slim, despite her proficiency in the art of healing magic.

Vytalas managed to pull his eyes away from his leader long enough to take notice of the transparent assassin that still refused to leave the Argonian's side.

"Lachance?" the Mer asked in both confusion and slight resentment. "By Sithis, is that you?"

The ghost did not even look Vytalas in the eyes; his attention was focused on the Listener and his physical condition. Even with the she-elf putting all of her efforts into her magic, the spirit did not feel his connection to the mortal plane becoming any stronger.

"Dammit, I'm talking to you, specter!" the Dark Elf barked furiously as he moved around the reptile so as to not distract Brelyna. Lucien's lip curled in a snarl as he felt a strong arm grab at his shoulder. "Decided to wait until he was half-dead to make your glorious return?" the Mer whispered viciously in his ear so that the frantic Dunmer could not hear him.

"This is not the time," the Spectral Assassin growled darkly as he turned his head slightly to shoot the archer a menacing look. How dare this young elf be concerned with anything outside of the survival of the Dark Brotherhood's leader? The next Listener should not be as callous as this! Lachance was not about to waste time explaining himself when KaNack could be dead within the minute. "He needs his family, Vytalas," the ghost insisted. "Do you want his final moments to be bitter ones?"

The archer jaw clenched in anger as what he saw as nothing more than Lachance avoiding the issue, but he could not ignore the fact that KaNack could possibly not live much longer in his condition. There was a time and place for antipathy and this was not it.

The female mage could see the wounds starting to close up, but could not tell because of KaNack's scaly exterior if she was doing anything for the blood loss. Brelyna kept up her casting as long as she could before her magicka threshold finally was exhausted and his gray hands lost their golden hue. The she-elf reached forwards and stroked at what was left of the reptile's feathered hair. Tears welled in her eyes when the Argonian's eyes still did not open.

"Is he…?"

"If he was, I would not be here still," Lucien answered solemnly, not yet willing to release to mage from his protective embrace. "He's sleeping now, but I don't know if he will live through the night. We can take some comfort in knowing that at least he is no longer in searing pain." The specter gave her a sad look. "You have my thanks."

"I could hear everything," Brelyna uttered in a shaky voice. The ghost hesitated at first, but his better judgment forced him to pull away from the Listener so that his wife could finally embrace him. The Dark Elf shuddered as she nuzzled into the caster's shoulder. "Every horrible detail as Othrelos described what he was about to do to KaNack. I couldn't do anything but lay there and listen to it. What could possibly drive a wizard to such sadistic actions?"

"It is frightening the lengths a man will go to when one is unwilling to break before him," Lucien remarked miserably. The Spectral Assassin struggled to his feet and looked furiously at the corpse of the false Morag Tong leader. "Take comfort in knowing that he is dead now. The filth that has been plaguing this land has been removed with that sorcerer's death."

"Lachance," the archer began as he approached the spirit, "where did you go? KaNack showed us the scroll. Why did you leave the Dark Brotherhood?"

Lucien's head lowered as he stared down at his caster shamefully. "I will not lie to you, Vytalas. My leaving was because of nothing more than trivial pride. I allowed my arrogance to get the better of me, and because of it I made a careless and selfish decision." The Spectral Assassin moved away from the group to an isolated part of the chamber and leaned against a supporting beam. "I thought that preventing the Listener from summoning me, it would make him stronger in the end. By Sithis, I was such a fool."

"If what you say is true, how did you manage to come back?" the archer asked as he tentatively approached the morose specter. "How were you able to leave the Void?"

Lachance glowered in disgust at himself and what had been caused because of him. "I had to learn to swallow my dignity and beg to be allowed to return. It was not easy and I am grateful that Sithis is capable of forgiveness." The ghost shook his head still ashamed that his weakness could possibly lead to the death of his beloved caster. "If I had remained true to the Dark Brotherhood, KaNack would not have endured the horrors that he did. His torture was as much my fault as it was Othrelos'."

"How is any of this your responsibility?" Brelyna asked, looking away from the battered mage. "Yes, you weren't here to help us. You came back though! You were able to defend my husband when no one else could!" The she-elf managed a small smile. "You saved him, Lucien. Just like always, you protected him when he needed you the most."

"I should have always have been there," Lachance insisted as he moved away from the Dark Brotherhood archer, leaving a trail of blue mist in his wake. "I've said things, horrible things that I will never be able to take back no matter how hard I try." The Speaker's eyes narrowed into slits. "I am not worthy of your respect. I am not worthy of representing the Dark Brotherhood in any way, shape or form. I am not worthy of the Listener's love."

"Lucien," Vytalas insisted as he hurried over to the specter and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We've all done things that we've regretted. What's important is that the family will survive no matter what. The Dark Brotherhood will never die!"

"Yes," Lachance agreed with a slight nod of his head. "That part is true." He gave the Dark Elf a tired look. "Stay strong and resolute, Vytalas. You have an important role to play in the future of the Dark Brotherhood."

"You don't have to worry about me, Lachance," the Mer answered sternly. "The Dark Brotherhood is my family. I'll never let them down!"

"I know you won't."

"What now? KaNack's too weak to be moved too roughly, but I don't feel safe keeping him in this dank and cold cavern. What should we do, Lucien? " Brelyna asked as she looked towards the spirit for wisdom and guidance as the Listener had so many times in the past.

"I am afraid my days of telling any of you what to do are over," the spirit replied solemnly. "Should you ask it of me; I will give you my suggestion. For now though, I turn to a true member of the Dark Brotherhood for wisdom." The Speaker crossed his arms and turned to the future Listener. "What say you, Vytalas?"

The archer was surprised at Lucien's sudden change in attitude. Never once had the specter ever shown any sign of submissive behavior and it unnerved the assassin slightly.

"We…we should gather the rest of the family," the Dunmer stated as he gestured towards the exit. "With the others, we should be able to move the Listener much more gingerly and not risk making his condition worse."

Feeling more confident in himself, the Mer straightened up so that he was standing tall before continuing. "The Nightgate Inn is not too far from here. A few of us could bring KaNack there and he would be kept comfortable, dry and warm. An overnight observation might be a better plan of action until we are sure that our leader is strong enough to make the journey back to Dawnstar to rejoin the other members of the family."

This was indeed the proper way to handle the situation. Split the family in half, one to care for the Listener and the other to prepare things back at the sanctuary for his hopeful return. "A most wise observation and plan, Brother," Lucien said as he nodded his head in approval.

The Speaker was pleased with the young assassin before him; Vytalas had grown up to be a fine leader in the last six years. The Night Mother was wise to have chosen him to be the Argonian's successor. Vytalas was composed, sensible and loyal. The family would not be led astray when it came to be his time to lead them all as the new leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

"Brelyna! Keep a close eye on KaNack!" Vytalas stated as he pointed in her direction. "We'll be back with help as soon as we can!" The archer turned back to the Spectral Assassin and gestured towards the exit with his head. "Ready to go?"

A smile crossed Lachance's lips as he bowed respectfully to the Dark Brotherhood's archer. "Lead and I will follow, Child of Darkness."


	28. Closure

General Tullius was standing before the jarl of Solitude not at all happy with the report he was about to give her.

"Well? I am waiting for an update regarding those horrible assassins, General," the Nord asked in a stiff voice. The normally pleasant woman's personality had never been quite the same since the death of her steward. There had been rumors spread about the capital proclaiming that the two had been more than just associates, but no one had the nerve to ask the jarl if there was any truth to it.

"I have soldiers scouting across the lands seeking Black Doors, my jarl," the Imperial answered patiently. "Also, one of my finest officers is handling this matter as well; finding this guild is no easy feat though."

"The Companions seemed to find and eliminate a whole sanctuary without any difficulty," Elisif stated with a slight scowl on her face. "Perhaps I should reach into my personal treasury and see if they can get the job done, since apparently you can't."

Tullius' jaw clenched and he felt his temper rising at the mention of the sellswords of Whiterun. Vilkas and his drinking buddies' methods were crude, but somehow they managed to locate one of the assassins' strongholds. If there was one thing the General did not like, it was being made to look like a fool.

"I'm afraid the jarl of Riften has temporarily caused them to cease any duties relating to the Dark Brotherhood, my jarl," the man explained quietly. "No prize you could offer them would grant you their services."

"That Maven," Elisif hissed as she rested her hand on her chin in frustration. "Always looking out for her shady connections." The jarl's eyes narrowed when she saw the confused look on the General's face. "Don't play dumb, Tullius. We all knew the kind of people the Black-Briars associated with before she was granted her title."

"Since the mage in Winterhold, there have been no new deaths relating to the Dark Brotherhood. We have not even heard word of any attempts since that shameful business with the thane's wife in Proudspire. We must be getting close if we have brought their actions to a halt," he explained, trying to give his jarl some form of positive news.

"I don't just want the killings to stop! I want justice!" the Nord snarled furiously as she slammed her fist on the arm of her throne causing the Imperial to stand up straighter, shocked at the violent action of the normally peaceful woman. "They killed good people, Tullius! Loyal allies! Beloved friends! I want their deaths to not have been in vain! I want their murderers punished!"

"The thane of Solitude approaches!" a guard called from the lower level of the Blue Palace.

This bit of news made Elisif lose the angry look in her eyes and she leaned back in her throne and rested her hands modestly in her lap. General Tullius hurried over to the overhang and looked over the side and was pleased to see the familiar robes that his legate had worn so proudly over the years since the defeat of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Ascending the staircase was his friend and loyal ally, KaNack. To his right, his wife and his left the familiar blue spirit that always accompanied him wherever he went. The last time the Argonian had spoken to him, he said that he would not allow Brelyna to return to Solitude until he knew it was safe. That could only mean good news for everyone.

"Legate KaNack!" the General greeted his friend as he reached the top of the stairwell with a salute. The caster and his wife returned the gesture in kind. The Imperial could see that the reptile looked exhausted, even with his face slightly hidden by the hood pulled over his head.

"General Tullius, I am glad you are here for this. I have news for both you and Jarl Elisif regarding the killings that have been haunting the lands of Skyrim," KaNack stated stiffly before moving towards the throne and taking a knee in respect. "Jarl Elisif, it is an honor to once again be in your graceful presence."

"Humble, as always," Elisif sighed with a smile. "Rise and remove your cowl, thane. You are most welcomed here."

The caster's lips thinned and he cleared his throat at the request. He picked his head up slightly and shook it in refusal. "If you please, my lady, I would rather not. You are a lady and I would be too ashamed for you to look upon me." The mage turned to look back at Brelyna sadly. "I have not returned here completely unscathed."

"I have seen my share of soldiers and wounded heroes, KaNack," the Nord insisted as she leaned forward in her throne. "You have no reason to be ashamed my friend. Please, I ask you to not hide your face when addressing me."

The Listener rose to his feet and gave the woman a sad look as he grasped at the hood of his shroud.

"If my jarl commands it, I will not refuse."

Every person, aside from those he entered the Blue Palace with, gasped and began muttering in shock when the Argonian revealed to them the horrors he had endured. His crown of beautiful crimson feathers were completely gone and one of his horns had been crudely cracked off.

"By the Eight, KaNack!" Tullius exclaimed in disbelief as he took in the sight of his loyal officer. "You look like you've been through a war!"

"You have no idea, General," the mage stated grimly as he crossed his arms. "What I had to endure is not a tale for the weak of heart, but I did not come here to share stories of battle." KaNack's eyes narrowed as he stood proudly before the jarl of Solitude. "Jarl Elisif, I've come here to inform you that the threat that has been looming over Skyrim is no more!"

The crowd gathered in the royal chambers once again began to murmur in confusion. The Nord stood up in her throne, surprised by her thane's declaration.

"No more?" she asked. "What do you mean? Surely you did not kill the entire Dark Brotherhood by yourself?!"

The mage shook his head solemnly as he gave the Nord a dark look. "I did not undertake this task alone, my jarl. I have made quite a few dangerous associates over the years and they helped me seek out this faction of villains and murderers." His lips curled back in a snarl. "Hear me! The assassins of the Dark Brotherhood are NOT the ones responsible for the Black Hand murders!"

"What?!" General Tullius exclaimed in both anger and surprise.

The Argonian was unnerved by the fierce look that Elisif was sending in his direction, but he remained firm.

"The Dark Brotherhood is not responsible, you say?" the jarl grumbled as she slowly approached the reptile. "I am hoping that you have brought proof of this, thane?"

"I would not be as foolish as to proclaim this if I did not, Lady Elisif." The mage turned around and began to descend the steps. "My proof is outside. I would not have something as wicked as it coming in here and tainting this palace of honor and integrity with its presence!"

Tullius was the first to follow his legate down the stairs, curious as to what proof the Argonian had brought. The Imperial had felt that the black handprints on the bodies were all the proof needed to condemn the assassins' guild of the crimes. Jarl Elisif, thoroughly certain that the Brotherhood had been guilty as well, also started to make her way down the stairwell with her royal guards keeping close.

The Dark Brotherhood leader pushed open the doors of the Blue Palace and a satisfied smirk crossed his face as he approached his unwilling evidence. The enraged female Dunmer was violently trying to pull loose from her binds as well as the two Imperial soldiers holding onto her.

The commotion being caused by Dinya had attracted quite a bit of attention from the residents of Solitude.

Viarmo, Jorn and the others bards had been pulled away from their studies in their courtyard, unable to focus with the screeching and cursing coming from the Imperial prisoner.

"Are you killing a cat over there?!" the Altmer shouted from the steps of the college.

The inhabitants of the surrounding homes were also standing in their doorways, not at all pleased with the sounds coming from the Dark Elf.

Captain Aldis was standing to the side, waiting patiently for further orders from the thane of Solitude. The poor man had only been guarding Dinya for fifteen minutes and he already looked ready to be rid of her.

"She's a handful, isn't she?" the reptile laughed as he approached Aldis and gave him a salute.

"She tried to bite one of my men while you were in there," the Imperial grumbled as he glared over at the she-elf. "Her language is also one that would make Shor Himself blush!"

The mage waited as the Tullius, Elisif and the others began to pour out of the palace and gathered before him.

"Jarl Elisif! Citizens of Solitude!" KaNack began loudly as he approached the bound Dark Elf. "I have proof that the Dark Brotherhood is not responsible for the horrible murders that have taken place in the last few months! As General Tullius explained to me in Castle Dour; the Brotherhood has always worked in a very particular manner! They are discreet and would never be as bold as to leave a calling card! They have not gone rogue! You have all been deceived by the true perpetrators of the slayings!"

The Listener pointed an accusing claw at the executioner. "Here is my proof! This is the only surviving member of the guild who haunted Skyrim and left black handprints on their victims' bodies! The Morag Tong!"

The mage bared his sharp teeth at Dinya as he grabbed her by her hair and held her head to the side, pulling the neckline of her shroud down.

"Get your filthy claws off me, you fetcher!" the Dunmer snarled viciously as she tried to pull her head free from KaNack's grip.

"General Tullius! Come here and see this!" the caster demanded, tightening his grasp on the Mer to make it more painful to try and lessen her struggling.

The commander marched over to the Dark Elf and looked closely at Dinya's shoulder blade to see what exactly his soldier was speaking of. There indeed was a damning mark, but it was unfamiliar to him.

"What is this, Legate?"

"That is the mark of the ancient guild of executioners from Morrowind, General," the mage growled as he kept a firm grip on the struggling Mer. "She and six others went out and killed beloved residents of Skyrim!" His eyes narrowed as he gave an adamant nod of his head to the surprised Imperial. "They wished to plague our land with a new and deadlier force of assassins!"

"Argonian bastard!" the elf hissed.

"Brelyna! Show the jarl the book!" the Listener shouted as he released the executioner and walk over to place an arm on the commander's shoulder. "You should see this too, General."

KaNack led the Imperial back to where Elisif was standing as his wife pulled an old tome from her satchel. She opened it to a bookmarked page that had a sketched drawing of the Morag Tong seal. Tullius' eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbol.

"That's what was on the Dunmer's shoulder," the man said as he slowly turned to give Dinya a dark look; he was beginning to see her as the vicious criminal she truly was.

"I have not heard of the Morag Tong before, thane," the Nord muttered as she crossed her arms, not yet convinced that the Argonian had provided proper evidence to clear the followers of Sithis' names. "How do you know that this is indeed not the Dark Brotherhood?"

"I have brought the bodies of the others to Solitude," the mage explained. "Each one possesses the same markings. If you still have the body of the vampire that attacked my home, I am willing to bet that he bears a mark as well." KaNack scowled over at the executioner. "Why would the Brotherhood bear these marks? It is a guild long dead and forgotten."

Tullius grunted as his friend grasped him firmly by the shoulders and stared him directly in the eyes. "I have not just brought you the last member of the guild, General. She's much more than that." The Listener released the Imperial and pointed in Dinya's direction. "I give you, General Tullius, Legate Rikke's murderer!"

Dinya bore her teeth at the Argonian fiercely as her red eyes burned brightly with hatred.

"She's the one who killed Rikke that night?" the commander asked in a dangerous tone as he felt his blood start to boil at the sight of the Dark Elf.

"Yes, my friend. I have brought her here so that you can finally see justice at work! The other executioners fell at the hands of me and my associates, but I will not deny you your right to do what you do best! Ensure that this matter is handled the way it should have been! Under the direct order and supervision of the Imperial Legion!"

The Dark Brotherhood leader patted the older man gently on the back. "I know you need closure for what happened to Rikke, Tullius. I pass her into your hands; do whatever you see fit in order to be at peace for what happened to our loyal sister in arms."

"You are such a fraud, reptile!" Dinya screamed in the Argonian's direction. "You think you've won this so easily?! You think I'm just going to accept death?!" A sinister smile crept up the Mer's face. "If I have to die, I am taking you with me!"

"Dinya," KaNack growled at her in threatening tone.

"Do you know why this lizard's been so desperate to clear the Dark Brotherhood's name?!" the she-elf barked as her red eyes darted to the many citizens and soldiers surrounding them. "Do you know why he is purposely leaving out the names of his associates?! It's because HE'S the leader of the Dark Brotherhood! He's the Listener! The master of the Black Hand!"

There was a collective gasp from the residents of Solitude followed by frantic murmurings. KaNack's body tensed up as he continued to stand alongside the General.

"That's right, Solitude! Your faithful thane! Your beloved Dragonborn! He is the ruler of all the assassins! His associates are none other than his brothers and sisters in the Brotherhood!" She laughed loudly as she gleamed evilly at the Imperial. "General Tullius! You have no idea what that reptile did! The Emperor of Tamriel! The one you so faithfully served? Your Legate KaNack is the one who killed him on that ship! Your friend KILLED Titus Mede the Second!"

Lachance tensed up as he put a hand on his blade, ready to defend his caster. He was hoping that it would not come to this. It would only be a matter of moments before everyone in Solitude turned on the mage. Dinya had just revealed the Listener's true identity. The Dark Brotherhood leader had been exposed before Imperial soldiers, Tullius and the jarl. There was nowhere KaNack could run, he was surrounded.

"Brelyna, we have to do something," he hissed quietly to the female mage. "They're going to kill him."

"Wait," the Dunmer insisted quietly as she took a hold of his hand and pulled it from his dagger. "Watch."

The Spectral Assassin wanted terribly to ignore the command, but he had to sit back and watch the event unfold before him. He only prayed that Argonian did not survive his torture only to end up being executed by those he had come to trust.

The Morag Tong chuckled wickedly as she shot the Argonian as frightening look. "So, there you have it, KaNack. Now we're both doomed for the chopping block."

The mage's teeth gritted together as he gave her a frustrated look. He had taken a gamble bringing Dinya here alive; he was positive that her poor grasp of sanity would have kept her from focusing on revealing him before the high powers of the Imperial Legion. Nazir had thought it was a poor idea, but the Argonian felt he needed to do it. He needed to give Tullius closure or the man would never be able to get past the death of Legate Rikke.

"You wretched FILTH!" a voice boomed causing all the surrounding citizens murmurings to come to a halt. The Listener turned in shock as the shout had come from none other than General Tullius. The veins in the Imperial's neck were bulging and his grey eyes were wide filled with pure resentment and hatred. The commander stormed over to Dinya and got right in her face. "How DARE you try and slander the name of this man!"

"What?" the Mer squeaked out surprised at the man's reaction.

The General gestured furiously back in KaNack's direction. "I've known this Argonian for seven years and there are few who could rival his devotion and love for the Empire! He and the mages forced the Stormcloaks out of the territories in Skyrim! He fought alongside Rikke and myself to bring Ulfric's tyranny to an end!" the man screamed in the startled Dark Elf's face. "KaNack is the finest and most loyal man I know! Do you think for one moment that I'm going to believe that HE of all people murdered the Emperor?!"

Dinya's jaw dropped; she had not assumed for one moment that the commander would simply refuse to believe the truth regarding the Dark Brotherhood's leader.

"It's…it's true," she choked out.

"You murdered Legate Rikke in cold blood. KaNack serves the Empire and brought your guild's crimes to an end. Your words mean nothing to me, Mer," the man uttered darkly before stepping away from the final surviving member of the Morag Tong.

"Get this lying murderer out of my sight," Tullius growled as he pointed towards Castle Dour. "The next time I want to lay eyes on her is when she's on the chopping block."

"No! NO! He's the Dark Brotherhood leader! He's with them!" Dinya screeched as the Imperial guards began to drag her off to the barracks. "Damn it! Listen to me! He's with the Brotherhood! Him and that stupid blue dog!"

Lucien could not help but smirk as he watched the Dark Elf get dragged off, her words having absolutely no effect on any of the surrounding people. He looked back at Brelyna with a sigh of relief.

"How did you know they wouldn't believe her?" the ghost asked quietly.

"Lucien, one does not spend years building up a reputation with both a city and the Imperial Legion only to have it dismissed because of the rants of a psychotic killer." She gave the Speaker's hand a squeeze. "These people and the General love KaNack. Dinya could have screamed to her heart's content and they would never have believed her. It's actually quite amazing, how something like a lie can bring out the very best in people and the truth the worst." The Dark Elf shook her head. "Perhaps lying is not as evil as I made it out to be."

KaNack sucked in a deep breath, he had been prepared for the very worst when Dinya called him out in front of the entire capital. It was fortunate that he and Tullius had become so close and the Imperial loudly came to his aid. No one in Solitude would dare accuse him of being associated with the Dark Brotherhood after the General's dismissal of the executioner. The mage took his time as he walked over to join the commander's side.

"Thank you, Tullius. For a minute I thought the entire town was going to lynch me."

"Bah!" the Imperial snorted. "That was nothing more than a murderer's pathetic attempt to drag your name in the mud. As though a true loyalist to the Empire would kill our Emperor? She makes me sick!" Turning to face the reptile, the Imperial crossed his arms. "So, all of the true murderers have been taken care of?"

"Each and every one eliminated, General. It was not easy as you can see by my handsome new looks," the Argonian snickered. KaNack lost his smirk when he saw that Tullius was not at all amused. "There is still the matter of the Dark Brotherhood though. Now that we know that they are not the ones responsible for all these deaths, are we still going to hunt for them?"

The older man grumbled to himself as he ran a hand through his silver hair. "By the Eight, KaNack. These are criminals, but if they aren't out there slaying indiscriminately, then they aren't my top priority anymore." Tullius turned his head up to the sky.

"We still have dragons, vampires and daedric princes that are threatening the land. My soldiers could be put to much better use than hunting for a guild that had remained intact and strong for over two hundred years." Tullius looked back at the Argonian. "If we happen upon one of the Black Doors, fine. We'll make sure that the murderers face justice, but for now, I'm just grateful knowing that such a dangerous guild hasn't truly gone mad with bloodlust."

"I think that's a very wise decision, General." The mage looked over his shoulder and waved towards Brelyna and his spiritual guide who were still standing by themselves in front of the Blue Palace. With the criminal brought to Castle Dour, the jarl and the other subjects returned to their normal duties and had cleared the area quickly.

"What about you, Legate?" the Imperial asked, grabbing the Argonian's attention once more. "Now that the threat is gone, will you and Brelyna be returning to Proudspire?"

"Actually, Tullius," the mage started, "Brelyna and I have been talking and there are just too many disturbing memories here in Solitude. The two of us have decided to move to a quieter and secluded area in Skyrim." He saluted the General. "I am still an active member of the Legion and will return to Solitude when I am needed, but this is not a place either of us wishes to call home anymore." He shrugged his shoulders. "Brelyna just needs to pick up a few things she cannot live without and we'll be on our way."

"Sorry to see you two leave, I've grown attached to you reckless mages over the years," Tullius said as he grinned at the black and red reptile. "Please tell me you will at least stay long enough to see the Morag Tong finally come to a bitter end."

"We would not miss that for the world," the Listener insisted as he patted the Imperial on the arm. "It's been a very long and exhausting day, Tullius. I think Brelyna and I will just rest up at Proudspire; you'll understand if I have Jordis turn away anyone who comes to the door. Even you."

"Legate, you've more than earned your right to do whatever in Oblivion you want!" The General finally saluted back to the mage. "Good job, Legate! I knew I could count on you to bring these murderers to justice! Even if you did end up clearing the names of the lesser of two evils. The Eight watch over you, friend."

"And you, General Tullius."

KaNack smiled sadly as he watched the older man march off proudly towards Castle Dour. His friend could finally rest peacefully that night knowing that Rikke's killer had been brought to justice. The Argonian gradually made his way over to Brelyna and the Spectral Assassin and pulled the Dunmer into a tight embrace.

"Thanks for not panicking back there, love," he whispered quietly. "It would have looked bad if you of all people started to become upset."

"I knew you would be fine. Poor Lucien though. He has no faith in people," the elf chuckled as she smiled at the spirit.

"I have plenty of faith in people," he answered simply as he looked off to the side. "I simply wished they had more faith in me."

KaNack grasped the specter by the shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. "Come on, old man. I'm not going to let you sulk. We won! Smile for pity's sake!"

Lachance tried to hide the smirk, but did a miserable job of doing so. Brelyna let out a content sigh as she rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Come, my love. Let's go home to Proudspire. One last time."


	29. Never Alone EPILOGUE

"We're home!"

Cicero perked up at the familiar voice of the Listener and rushed up the stairwell eager to be the first to welcome the Listener and their new sister back to the Dawnstar Sanctuary.

"Listener! Back at last! Back at last!" the jester laughed as he pulled the Argonian into a loving embrace. The Imperial pulled away and could not wipe the grin off his face. "Now that the sanctuary is your true home, we will be seeing you much more now!"

"Yes," KaNack said softly as he turned his head to smile at the petite Dunmer backing her way down the stairs and took her hand. "Now that Brelyna is here, there is nothing keeping me from returning to Dawnstar."

"My lady!" the fool exclaimed as he bowed politely to her. "You are most welcome to the sanctuary!" His golden eyes suddenly got a dark look to them. "Even if you did almost kill the Listener."

The Dark Elf tensed for a moment, but jumped back in surprise when the Fool of Hearts grasped her by the shoulder, once again smiling at her lovingly. "Although, who here has not tried to kill the Listener at one time or another? Cicero certainly has!" the Keeper laughed.

"Yes," the Dark Brotherhood leader sighed with a shake of his head. "Cicero, will you do me a favor and fetch that old scroll from the desk in my room?"

"Oh, of course Listener! Humble Cicero lives to serve!" The merry man scampered back down the stairs and into the tunnel that led to the residential chambers in the sanctuary.

Brelyna looked over at her husband and a thin eyebrow rose in confusion.

"Cicero tried to kill you? I thought he was your best friend."

"He is. It was just one time and I've long since forgiven him. Water under the bridge and all that," the Argonian insisted as he held the mage close to his side and led her through one of the passages in the sanctuary. The Dunmer looked sadly up at the reptile as she ran her gray slender fingers along his bare head.

"I wish I could have done something about that horn. I am sure that eventually the feathers will grow back, love." She forced herself to smile. "Baldness does not suit you."

"Charming as always, Brelyna," the caster snickered.

The Spectral Assassin trailed behind the two, keeping a steady pace as he thought about meeting that was about to take place in the Dawnstar Sanctuary.

"I assume you are having the Keeper retrieve that damned scroll for a reason?" the ghost started quietly. "Now that you know the truth, Listener; are you prepared to share your and Vytalas' fates with the family?"

"I think it is for the best if they are told, Buddy," the mage said as he rested his head against Brelyna's. "Everyone here has just gone through a very rough couple of months, especially Vy. They need to know what to expect if the worse happens so that they are not left worrying and confused."

When the three entered the meeting room, all of the assassins were seated into their respectful places. KaNack felt his heart sink when he saw the empty chair next to Dro'marash that had always been where Shaleez had resided. The Morag Tong had taken the Listener's apprentice from him; but in the end, the female mage had been avenged.

"Allow your spouse to take my seat, Listener," Lucien insisted as he made his way over to a corner of the chamber and leaned against the wall. He was no longer an official member of the Dark Brotherhood and had no right to sit with the others.

Brelyna was led over to the table and her husband helped her into the seat that for years had been specifically reserved for the Spectral Assassin. All of the assassins turned in their seats and looked expectantly over at the spirit, curious as to why he was isolating himself from all of them.

"Lucien!" snapped the Keeper. "What are you doing all the way over there? We can't get started without the kindly specter!"

"This is the price I have to pay for my insolence, Keeper," Lachance said as he crossed his arms and looked to the side of the cavern. "I am a representative of the Dark Brotherhood no longer. My place is not with you."

"Lachance, you ass!" Nazir barked as he slammed his fist on the table and scowled over at the spirit. "What do you mean you're not one of us?!" The Redguard rose from his seat and gestured to the surrounding assassins. "One bad decision does not exempt you from all the good you have done over the years!"

"You kept us in line when the Listener too busy to do so," added Kaie as she smiled over at the Speaker.

"You taught us the thrill of the hunt. How to become true assassins and not mere killers," Vytalas said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You were always there to share your wisdom that you had gathered over the centuries," Babette commented as her dark eyes twinkled. "You may not be as old as me, but your input has proved invaluable on more than one occasion."

"For the last decade you've helped me bring this guild back to life and played a major part in the reformation of the Black Hand!" the Dark Brotherhood leader said as he gestured to Shaleez's empty seat. "My friend, you will always have a place here with us. You can be humble, but that does not mean you have to exclude yourself from your family."

Lachance mumbled under his breath before slowly approaching the table and taking a seat next to the Khajiit.

"Dro is honored to be sitting next to you," the cat purred quietly at the spirit. "

"Now that Buddy is done with his melodrama," the reptile started with a grin, causing the ghost to shoot him a dangerous look, "it's time to get down to business." KaNack rested his hand on Brelyna's as he smiled down at her.

"As you all are well aware, my wife knows all about us and the secret of the Dawnstar Sanctuary now. This is knowledge that does not belong to one who is outside of the Dark Brotherhood's circle." The mage held his hands out in front of the surrounding assassins as he continued to address them. "I propose to have Brelyna live amongst our unique family."

A scowl crossed over Nazir's face as he glanced over at Babette to see what she felt about the suggestion. The unchild appeared completely indifferent to the plan of accepting the Dunmer into their home.

"Brelyna is a master in the art of restoration magic and will be a most valuable asset to our guild. Since she is willing to stay in the sanctuary, she will be able to tend to the wounded when I am not present to do so." He beamed down at the Mer proudly. "My wife is a grand healer and has proven that her abilities are capable of treating even the most severe of injuries. She is not going to be an official 'sister' since she will not be taking part in collecting souls for Sithis, but I trust and love her as much as any of you."

"The Mer does not embrace Sithis, Listener," the Redguard began darkly. "She also made it quite clear what she thinks about us and what we do. How do we know that somewhere along the line she won't let her conscious get the best of her and sabotage the Dark Brotherhood from the inside out?"

"Brelyna has already had that opportunity, Nazir," KaNack explained as he rested his palms flat on the table. "I could have been allowed to bleed to death in the ruins of Silverdrift Lair, but she pulled me back from the brink of death. I could easily have been deprived of the proper care I needed to survive my stay at the Nightgate Inn, but once again, Brelyna shared her restoration and healing knowledge and tended to me until my strength had returned." The Argonian's brow furrowed. "She could have called me out in front of the jarl of Solitude, General Tullius, and a number of Imperial loyalists which would lead to me being arrested and executed. She didn't though; my wife remained faithful to me."

"As that meddling fool explained to me quite thoroughly, Nazir," the she-elf started gently as she leaned over to smile at the Keeper. "The Dark Brotherhood aren't villains, you kill the villains." The Dunmer folded her hands together and gazed down upon them sadly. "One of your own willingly sacrificed herself to try and protect a close friend of mine; that is not a deed performed by an evil person."

"No, it's not," the Redguard grumbled, not losing the unpleasant expression on his face.

"KaNack has opened my eyes, and now I see you the way he does. A loving family and a guild that delivers justice when there is none is to be had." The Mer chuckled quietly. "You're vigilantes."

"We're devoted servants to our deity," Nazir corrected her as he leaned back in his seat. "We kill whomever the Night Mother instructs us to; regardless of whom they are or what they've done. Do you understand, Brelyna?" the Speaker growled. He wanted to make sure that the Mer knew exactly what took place in the Dark Brotherhood, less her sudden realization could lead to her betraying them all like Astrid did.

"Yes, you're killers," the Dark Elf hissed as she glared at the old assassin. "You think I'm blind to that? You don't kill to hurt people though! You don't kill merely to make others suffer!"

KaNack sat back down in his seat and pulled his wife into a gentle embrace, knowing that the events in Winterhold were still haunting her. She clutched the robes in tight fists and hid her face in his shroud as the tears came once more.

"Those people killed Onmund because everyone loved him! He was killed because they knew that his death would hurt so many people! My best friend now has to live the rest of her extended life without the man she loves because the Morag Tong wanted to make an impression on Skyrim! That's nothing short of cruel!"

Brelyna turned her head to scowl at Nazir. "Yes, I know that you murder people, assassin. This experience has taught me though that you aren't the enemy. Skyrim needs you to keep it safe. Without the Dark Brotherhood, malicious people like Othrelos would continue to roam the land spreading pain and misery in their wake." The she-elf gently pulled away from the Listener and shook her head. "I wouldn't betray you and your family, Nazir. I will not deprive Tamriel of the unsung heroes and protectors of its people."

"Well spoken, my dear," Babette remarked as a smile crossed her lips. "Yes, I believe you do truly understand just who we are and what we do." The vampire raised a small hand in the air. "I am in favor of accepting Brelyna into our home."

"As do I!" the archer proclaimed as he held his arm up as well. "I would be proud to have her by our side."

"Is there anyone here who would object to her remaining in this sanctuary?" the Black Hand leader asked, looking specifically in the Redguard's direction. "If any still have their doubts, now is the time to speak their minds."

The Redguard grumbled and crossed his arms as he continued to scowl in the Dark Elf's direction. He had seen just how much destruction could be caused by one rogue member of a sanctuary and found it difficult to bring himself to trust an outsider, regardless of her relationship to the Listener.

"Are you willing to accept Sithis as your deity?" the man asked her stiffly.

"Julianos is my deity!" she hissed viciously at him. "I will be loyal to you, but the Dread Father is not whom my faith resides with."

"This is blasphemous," the Keeper growled under his breath as he leaned towards his friend. "She is coming into our home, but does not embrace Sithis. Can we allow this?"

"Give her time," the reptile whispered back to the Imperial. "We can't expect her to embrace Him overnight." The mage stood up from his chair and shot the Redguard a dangerous look. "Nazir, are you unwilling to accept Brelyna into our sanctuary?"

"Does it matter what I think, KaNack?" the older assassin asked bitterly. "You already were going to make her one of us, don't humor us by making it look like we had a say."

"Humor you?" A smirk crawled up the Argonian's face. "You are the only one here who seems to have a problem with Brelyna, old man. You are right in that at this point it does not matter what you say; still, I'd prefer if the decision was unanimous."

"Come now, Nazir!" Dro'marash snapped as he glared over at the Speaker. "Brelyna is our leader's wife and has kept him from death! We should allow her into our home!"

"Trying to replace your fallen sister, Dro?" the Speaker stated coldly. "You think substituting her with another mage is the best course of action?"

"NAZIR!" the Listener roared wrathfully causing the Redguard to shrink back in his chair. "You dare to have the audacity to say something like that?!" The reptile's eyes narrowed in fury. "You don't want to like Brelyna being here, that's your decision. I'll be damned if I will let you speak of Shaleez as though she could just simply be replaced!" The mage let out a growl of disgust as bared his teeth in a snarl. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

The older assassin lowered his head slightly to avoid the venomous looks he was receiving from the brothers and sisters lining the table. "I apologize," he muttered quietly. "I spoke out of line and there is no excuse." Nazir forced himself to make eye contact with the Listener. "You've never accepted anyone in this sanctuary who has not been functional asset to it. If you believe that your spouse will be loyal and true to the Dark Brotherhood, then I have faith in your judgment."

"It's decided then," KaNack announced as he left his seat and began to pace in front of the length of the table. "Brelyna will be welcomed into our home and live amongst us. Rather than be sent out on contacts, she will act as our sanctuary's healer and train those who wish to better their skills in the Arcane Arts."

The Listener's head dropped suddenly as he got a saddened look in his eyes. "There is still one more matter that we need to discuss as a family." The reptile stepped forward and rested his hands on the table so that he was standing next to Vytalas. "As you all know, Lucien Lachance has returned to us from the Void. You may also have noticed that the spirit's personality is not quite the way he once was."

"Yes, I've been meaning to ask you about that," Kaie said as she looked over at the Spectral Assassin in concern. "Why are you acting like you don't belong here with us. You've always been so proud and, dare I say, arrogant about your place in this sanctuary."

"Lachance has come back, but not as the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood," KaNack explained with difficulty. "I can summon him before us because of my conjuring abilities, not because of my ties with the Void."

"Dro does not understand," the Khajiit said as his ears folded back against his head. The cat looked over at the spirit next to him and could see the expression of shame on the ghost's face. "If he is not the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood, than who is he?"

"I'm his familiar," the Spectral Assassin answered simply. "I have all my abilities, but that honorable title is no longer mine to bear."

"Cicero, the scroll please," KaNack commanded as he held out a clawed hand.

The Keeper reached into his satchel and removed the rolled parchment. He had to stand on the seat of his chair and lean forward in order for the Listener to be able to reach the offered item. "Cicero was rather curious as to why you wanted this. He thought that this was the kindly specter's blank summons," the jester commented as he allowed himself to drop back down onto the cushion of his seat.

"Yes, it was blank," responded the Listened. "Was."

He laid the spool of parchment on the table and unrolled it for all to see. All the assassins leaned forward, shocked at the sight before them. The scroll was no longer bare; instead had been inscribed in what appeared to be fresh blood. Vytalas, being the closest, quickly scanned over the document.

"The Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood?" he muttered. "A Spectral Mage?!"

"KaNack, what in Oblivion is this?" Nazir barked in frustration. "What exactly does this mean?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the Listener asked as he returned to his seat next to Brelyna and took her hand in his. "When Lucien stepped down from his role, Sithis chose another to take his place." He looked at his wife sadly. "I am to be the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood. Part of my soul had been attached to that document."

"This makes no sense to Dro!" the feline hissed as he turned to glare at the ghostly Speaker sitting next to him. "How can the Listener be the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood is he is still here?"

"You can thank Buddy for that," the mage answered as he looked back at his guardian with a smile. "Had he not returned, I would not have survived my encounter with Othrelos." The Dark Brotherhood leader winced as he thought about the torture he had endured at the hands of the warlock. It was after he had been broken beyond almost all repair that KaNack truly understood what Lucien had to go through in order to prove himself to their deity.

"It had been arranged for me to meet my end in that tomb, but Lachance somehow managed to convince the Dread Father to allow him to come back and he's the reason I'm still breathing."

"This means that the Listener was meant to die that night?" cried Cicero in horror. The Imperial shook his head as he grabbed handfuls of his auburn hair. "No! No, Sithis would not be so cruel as to take the Listener from us! He wouldn't send the Listener to his death when he has served so faithfully!"

"My dear friend." The caster rested a hand on the Keeper's back to try and calm the distraught jester. "We cannot question the desires of the Dread Father. He does not make decisions lightly and everything happens for a reason." Turning to the Spectral Assassin, a smile crossed the reptile's lips. "Don't be sad, Cicero. I am not the Spirit of the Dark Brotherhood yet."

Rising from his seat, the Listener once again began to pace before the seated assassins. "Sithis sent Lucien back to watch over me until my time finally does come to an end." Nazir was astounded at how at peace the Dark Brotherhood leader seemed to be at this realization. "When I fall, the rest of my soul will become attached to that scroll and I will take Lachance's place as the representative of the Dark Brotherhood. It's an honor like no other."

"NO!" shrieked Cicero as he slammed both fists on the table. "No! It took Cicero fifteen years to find the Listener! Fifteen! What will happen when you go?!" The merry man groaned miserably as he rested his head on the table. "Finding the Listener will be hard! Very hard! Poor Cicero does not even know if he will live long enough to be there to search! Even if I do live long enough, I will not be of any help! Not at all!"

KaNack let out a soft laugh as he motioned the Keeper to calm himself. "Cicero, my faithful Keeper! We all must accept the fact that successors must be chosen! You will need to start training another if we wish the Night Mother to remain a part of how the Dark Brotherhood finds out about performed Black Sacraments."

"Cicero's successor?" the jester growled as he scowled towards the red and black mage. "It will not be easy for the Fool of Hearts to find one worthy of tending to Mother." The Imperial sat up straight and adjusted the cap on his head. "You are right though, Cicero will not live forever and Mother must have a Keeper."

"What of the Listener though?" Kaie asked as she looked at the other assassins in concern. "How will we be able to find the next Listener?"

"He's closer than you think," KaNack answered solemnly as he rested his hands on Vytalas' shoulders. The Dark Elf swallowed and felt his entire body become stiff. "Vytalas the Listener, just sort of rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?"

"Me?!" the elf exclaimed as he spun around in his seat, his red eyes wide with disbelief. "I'm the next Listener? This has to be some kind of mistake! I'm just a simple assassin!" He gestured towards his head. "How can I be a Listener with one damn ear?!"

"One, you can still hear just fine, Vy," the Argonian stated as he folded his arms. "Two, she speaks in your head. It would not make difference if you were deaf. You'd still be able to hear the Night Mother's voice."

The Breton reached over to wrap her arms around her lover and rested her head against his chest.

"I'm so proud of you, Vy! I knew you were to become something special! You are one of the most loyal, strong and fearless people I have ever met! You're going to be a fantastic leader to the Brotherhood!"

"And you will have a former Listener there to be by your side and guide you," KaNack stated as he looked over at the Spectral Assassin with pride. "Lucien Lachance was there for me when I had been named leader and he never steered me the wrong way." Vytalas grunted as he felt a clawed hand ruffle his hair. "I won't either, Vy. Whenever you need me, I will always be there for you."

The mage tapped the scroll before moving away from the stunned archer. "I know this is a lot for you to take in, Vytalas. However, someday my time will come to an end and when that happens I want you to be ready and know what you have to do."

"How long exactly do I have?" the elf asked as he leaned forward to read the new bloody scripture on the scroll. "How much time do I have to prepare before I have to take in all this responsibility."

"Honestly, I have no idea," the caster answered as he began to slowly circle the large table. "It is only when I die that I become the new spirit, no specific date was given." The Argonian paused when he was behind the Spectral Assassin.

Lachance growled in frustration as the reptile suddenly pounced onto him from behind and wrapped his arms around the specter's neck. "It all depends on how long Buddy here is willing to keep me from dying!"

"Get off me!" Lucien barked in frustration, starting to sound once more like his normal no-nonsense self. The spirit began snarling as KaNack pulled him out of his seat and started to wrestle with the annoyed specter. "Listener!"

"I will serve you well, Vytalas!" the Argonian laughed as he refused to release his grip on his spiritual guide. "Lachance here has taught me everything he knows and look at how well I turned out!"

"That's supposed to be encouraging?!" Babette exclaimed as she watched her leader continue to fight with the Spectral Assassin in confusion. "KaNack, what in Oblivion are you doing?!"

"He's not going to let you live much longer if you keep that up!" Nazir exclaimed, not sure what the mage was trying to prove.

KaNack yelped as the spirit finally managed to squirm out of his grasp and snatched a hold of the caster's arm twisting it painfully. The reptile took a knee, but had an amused grin plastered on his face as the furious ghost glared down at him.

"Insolent whelp!" Lachance shouted. "Did you really think a mage could outmaneuver an assassin?"

"No!" the Listener laughed loudly, not at all fazed by the spirit's anger. "I couldn't stand seeing everyone so damn sad though! I had to do something!"

Lucien released his grip on his caster's arm and took a few cautious steps backwards. KaNack brushed himself off and smiled at the faces that were no longer masked with concern but with shock. "You are all acting like I'm already dead. Yes, as much as I hate to believe in destiny, it is my fate to eventually become bound to that scroll." He once again began to circle the table.

"I still have a lot of work to do for the Dark Brotherhood. I'm not going to let a little thing like this blind me to my duties." He held his head up proudly. "Don't see this as a death sentence for me, I certainly don't. All this represents is a new and exciting adventure for me to undertake once Sithis feels that it is time for new blood to take over the leadership of this family."

KaNack finally returned to his chair and sat down taking his wife's hand in his and kissing it.

"Lucien told me that there is no such thing as 'goodbye' in the Dark Brotherhood and I believe that is the truth. We are a part of one another through love, friendship and loyalty. That connection will always be there even if we are not living on the same plane of existence. So long as we remain true and never allow our faith to waver, our family will remain strong." The Listener let out a sigh as he gazed longingly at the loved ones surrounding him. "If we believe in each we will never be alone." He nodded his head sadly. "Yes, never alone."

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you all, this is easily the most popular of the fics I have written. Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and comments during this process. My next project is "The Winterhold Five" which will cover the mages services in the Imperial Legion, which has been hinted at throughout this story. **

**Odds are that The Winterhold Five will be my last long fic unless I get inspired. However it is likely that I may continue with short stories to cover the minor adventures of our favorite red and black Argonian.**

**Huge thanks to Heiwako for being my proofreader!**

**Thanks again to the readers for all your support :)**


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